Spiderman: Most Wonderful Time of the Year
by iamathundercat
Summary: This is my first fanfiction, so be nice and if you read it you will find a story of Peter Parker as a fugitive from the law over the Christmas holiday season. Read it and you won't regret it. Feel free to review too.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

The voice of Eartha Kitt crooned "Santa Baby" over the speakers as Peter Parker stepped out from the store, giving a slight shiver as the wintery breeze rushed at him. Looking around as he listened to the strains of the Christmas classic, able to listen to it still as Peter stepped to the side and held open the door for two giggling schoolgirls to enter the store.

Finally, the door closed shut with a crash as the song faded away just as quickly and Peter was now focused on trudging down the sidewalk toward his car. The snowflakes fell and the harsh winter wind assaulted his face as he blinked a bit, but he couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief as he thought of the presents he held in his grip. This afternoon he had finished getting the final presents for MJ, Aunt May and a handful of other people - even a present for his boss, J. Jonah Jameson. Finally, he was finished with shopping for the year.

Bundled up tightly in the coat that MJ had given to him last Christmas, Peter peered through the snow as he saw his car in the distance. Eager to get home for some hot chocolate, he walked past store after store proclaiming deals and bargains for the Christmas holiday. His ears caught snatches of conversation from the crowd around him, a myriad of Christmas songs from various store speakers and then suddenly the unmistakable sound of police sirens. His Spider Sense gave a slight buzz as Peter reacted instinctively, looking to see the source of the sirens and whether Spiderman would be needed.

The sirens were actually as close as they sounded. Turning around, he saw the squad car pull up to the sidewalk next to him rather than speeding after some criminal, as two police officers emerged from the vehicle. His Spider-sense was buzzing now wildly as Peter looked around, examining the faces of the crowd now as they all stared curiously at the police officers, who began walking forward away from the squad car. Peter's eyes flickered around the crowd, but spying no one who looked dangerous or who appeared guilty.

"Peter Parker?" the police officer said, though it seemed like more of a statement than a question.

"_Why are they saying Peter Parker_?_"_ Peter thought, _"That's my name. Why are they saying my name_?_" _

Confused, Peter nodded and he stepped forward, eyes warily observing the police officers as they got closer, Peter surprising himself by saying, "Yes – that's me. I'm Peter Parker"

As Peter confirmed his identity for the officers, his mind raced with possibilities for why the officers would be here – such as something tragic had happenned to Aunt May or Mary Jane. None of the circumstances he considered were good but unfortunately, one of them was right.

Without warning, the police officers lunged forward and grabbed his arms, Spider sense buzzing too late as they slammed him into the wall, groaning as he listened to the officers, whose words pierced the air with precision as the officers announced aloud the formal charge in order to arrest him.

"You are under arrest for the murder of Mary Jane Watson." the first police officer said with a distinguised New York accent. At hearing these words, Peter went numb, shouting in shock and rage but going limp in the grip of the police officers against the hard brick wall. Aware, but hardly listening to the litany of the Miranda rights being read to him as the crowd watched in shock, hearing the muted whispers vaguely as Peter tried to absorb the idea that Mary Jane might have been murdered but unable to accept it.

Blinking back a few tears, Peter came to a sudden start as he heard the jingle of handcuffs behind him, "No – it's not true!" shouted Peter in fury. Summoning his Spider strength, Peter pushed away from the wall, sending both police officers backpedaling and reeling away from him.

Using his newfound freedom, Peter found his footing immediately and took advantage of their surprise to dash away, hearing the shouts of bewilderment and astonishment. With a burst of speed, he barreled his way through the crowd unopposed, lunging into the nearest alley as he officially become a fugitive from the law. Behind him, he could hear the police officers giving pursuit while simultaneously calling for backup in apprehending Peter Benjamin Parker, photographer for the Daily Bugle, and murder suspect.

Above it all, Peter could only remember the words of the police officer pounding in his head like a drum solo as he refused to accept them – _"You are under arrest for the murder of Mary Jane Watson."…._


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Peter Parker ran through the snow as it fell – his legs on fire and his heart pounding with adrenaline. Blinking back a few tears, he panted as he made his way through the alley, his shoes pounding along the pavement as he attempted to balance the bags of Christmas presents in both hands. Money was a bit tight at the moment, and he didn't want to lose these presents with Christmas only a few days away.

Behind him, he heard the shouts of "Stop – this is the police!", causing him to turn his head back only to see a number of policemen momentarily gaining on him. Hearing these words, he quickly started to turn into the next alley to his right.

But, a palpable buzz accompanied this choice as his body tingled a bit – his Spider sense alerting him to officers waiting at the end of this alley as he quickly reversed course, darting into the alley to his left.

Peter Parker felt fingertips grab along his arm, tugging at his coat as he yanked his arm away and narrowly avoiding the grip of New York City's Finest, speeding down the alley, feet carrying him farther away from the policemen as he began to gain some ground, hearing the policemen huffing and puffing behind him.

Peter repeated to himself under his breathe, "_I have to make it, I have to make it…_" over and over, chanting it almost like a mantra as if by sheer will alone he could escape from his present circumstances.

Breathing hard as Peter could see his breathe crystallize before his eyes, ignoring everything else except just getting away from the police as Peter lunged into yet another alley. Soon, hopefully, he could get away and transform into Spiderman in order to finally escape from the police officers behind him. Once free, Peter could begin to try to make sense of this insane situation.

Suddenly, his Spider sense tingled again with a wild buzzing, causing Peter to gasp as suddenly the sound of a gunshot filled the air, with bits of brick exploding as the bullet slammed into the wall next to his shoulder. This only caused him to begin running even faster if that were possible as two more bullets followed – one of them sending dust and brick flying into the air and the third sending a metallic clang ringing through the air as it richocheted off of a dumpster. None of them connected with the fleeing Peter Parker as he scrambled through the alleys, slipping his way through the snow in order to evade his pursuers.

"_I can't actually believe they're firing at me!_" Peter thought, sweating a bit underneath the heavy winter coat as he gripped the handles of the shopping bags even tighter, "_What is going on?_"

Peter broke out into the open street, ignoring the looks of the nearby bystanders as Peter spun left, feeling the wild tingling sensation as he saw a police car pull up out of the corner of his eye. The police car screeched to a halt as Peter ran to the left, with his Spider-sense buzzing wildly and several police officers emerging from the squad car.

Suddenly, his legs gave out from underneath him as he hit a slick patch of ice, crashing to the ground with a sickening thud. Arching his back momentarily in pain, he shook his head as he remembered his circumstances. Hearing shouts around him, he pushed himself to his feet with one fluid motion and began to run again.

His whole body tingling with the Spider sense as the itching sensation buzzed in his brain when suddenly a police officer lunged forward, obviously intending to tackle Peter to the ground. Peter foiled this attempt, spinning to the side as he tightened his grip on the handles of the shopping bags, watching with detached amusement as the police officer crashed into the snow. It was only moments later though that another police officer darted at him as he was forced to leap backwards, watching the police officers outstretched arms miss him by scant inches as he joined his partner in an undignified heap on the sidewalk. Landing on his feet, he slid backwards on the ice slightly and had barely gained his balance, before a third police officer ran forward, forcing Peter to shift his footing again as he pivoted away. The third police officer crumpled to the sidewalk hard with a thud, as Peter leaped up and forward, his feet carrying him away from this flurry of New York's Finest.

Peter's spider sense was buzzing wildly as he spun around the corner, only to see another police car arriving to help subdue the fugitive, which would be him. His Spider Sense flared as Peter only managed to leap up, landing on the hood of the car barely as the tires squealed on the slick, icy pavement. The squad car spun to the side, with the wide-eyed police officer slamming on the brakes as it came to a screeching halt. The sudden stop almost knocked Peter off balance, but he slipped backwards off the squad car and miraculously landed on his feet.

A police officer, one of them recovered from earlier, sprung forward to tackle Peter from the side, sending them both sprawling to the ground with a crash as snow sprayed up into the air and both bags of Christmas shopping spilling onto the ground into the slush and snow. Peter rolled with him, using the momentum to push him off to the side as he scrambled to his feet, but another officer was upon him fast, slamming him into the nearby wall as Peter groaned. Peter managed to bring one hand up, pushing back as he used his flexibility to twist away from the officer, leaving the officer slumped against the wall as he twisted around to discover another police officer standing there.

This time, his hand was outstretched and his gun was pointed directly Peter's face. Peter blinked in momentary surprise, but immediately pushed the hand upwards and sent the officer stumbling to the side as he ran forward, only to be confronted by yet another gun as he heard the hammer click. In yet another second, two more hammer clicks followed and a total of three guns were pointed at Peter's head as he frowned.

Peter's eyes flickered towards the police officer standing in front of him, and gazing into his eyes, found no compassion at all. Peter used this moment to look around, seeing the crowd scattered around this scene, finding his eyes drawn to a mother of two who clutched her children tight to her. In her eyes was only bewilderment and fear for her children, as Peter felt a wave of embarassment flood over him. He was sworn to protect these people and here he was, scaring them to death. Peter knew he could easily escape from this situation without being hit, but couldn't account for the police officer's reactions and risk having one of their shots hit an innocent bystander. Peter couldn't deal with that on his conscience as he gazed into the police officer's eyes, nodding in complicit agreement and raising his hands up in the universal gesture of surrender.

Immediately, he found handcuffs around his wrists, snapping shut forcefully. The crowd milling around the situation stared in surprise, murmuring among themselves as Peter was led forcefully over to one of the squad cars. Peter gazed down at the sidewalk, unable to meet their curious stares but he did look over his shoulder to see his Christmas presents gathered up by yet another officer.

After all of this, Peter was placed into the back seat of the squad car – arrested like a common criminal – leaving him to wonder how everything in his life had changed so much in the past ten (10) minutes.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

The squad car pulling away from the sidewalk as Peter couldn't meet the shocked gazes of the people standing in the street, instead focusing on the descending snowflakes as they fell from the sky, sticking to the window of the squad car as the snowflakes slid down slowly into nothingness. This seemed to mirror his own rapid plunge from the carefree experience of Christmas shopping to being pursued, shot at and arrested as a murder suspect. Not just any murder mind you, but the murder of your own wife. Falling like a snowflake into nothingness.

Nothingness is what Peter Parker felt right now. Shock, rage and disbelief had numbed him as he had run through a whole series of emotions, leading up to the possibility that his wife might be dead and Mary Jane would be lost to him forever. Peter swore at himself, angry for even thinking about it as he gazed up at the front seat.

"I_ can't believe I was caught by the New York Police Department's version of Abbott and Costello_." Peter thought wryly, frowning as he started considering his situation.

Slowly, Peter began to assess the situation before him. Peter's gaze traveled up to the front seat, where the two cops sat, talking in low voices back and forth. The first cop driving the car to its destination was a portly fellow with reddish hair, slightly graying and a bristly mustache. When reading him his Miranda rights, the police officer had spoken in a thick New York accent. Peter named this first officer Costello.

The second officer, sitting in the passenger seat, was a thin fellow with blonde hair and a gotee, who seemed to speak in an accent that hinted slightly at a Southern heritage. This one he dubbed Abbott.

Almost, as if on cue, the second officer turned sideways in the seat to face him. "Abbott" wore thick, dark wraparound glasses, which he removed to look Peter in the eye, his eyes filled with obvious contempt and distrust.

Meeting the officer's gaze, Peter kept his face neutral as "Abbott" spoke, "Well, Parker, it's good news and bad news time. The good news is the doctors have managed to revive your wife, so she's still alive at the moment. The bad news is that the doctors have managed to revive your wife, so she's still alive at the moment."

Peter felt a surge of elation run through him, unable to suppress the smile that crossed his face as he suddenly frowned, looking at the officer, "May I ask why would that be bad news?"

Abbott gave a condescending smile as he responded with, "Well, she's in a coma right now, but that's bad since it means she can testify that you were the one who tried to kill her if she regains consciousness. You sure don't need any more evidence against you."

Peter was confused still, mind reeling with the whole implausibility of his situation, as he said, "Why are you so convinced that I killed, or tried to kill, my wife?"

"Because we have witnesses, Parker. From what I've heard, you're supposed to be a smart guy, but you're not impressing me very much right now.", the other officer said with a rueful chuckle. This came from Costello, the driver.

"_Witnesses?"_ Peter thought in amazement, stumped by this latest revelation as he tried to imagine who would testify to him murdering Mary Jane, the love of his life. How could they have seen him attempt to murder his wife when he was out Christmas shopping? Peter tried to wrap his mind around this, yet found that he couldn't. But, the important thing is that Mary Jane was alive, fighting for survival and Peter couldn't lose hope now. He had to see Mary Jane.

"But, Mary Jane isn't dead, right?" Peter asked suddenly. The nothingness began to be replaced by a sense of enthusiasm and relief as Peter gave a heavy sigh. Inspiration filled him as Peter gave a hopeful smile, leaning forward in his seat as he made the inquiry.

"Not yet.", Abbot said, glaring at Peter.

"Not for lack of trying though." said Costello, accompanied by a derisive snort, "Not for lack of trying, Parker."

Slumping back in his seat as Peter felt relief that Mary Jane was alive, even if she wasn't quite well. Peter had to see Mary Jane as soon as possible to be there for her in her time of need – just like she was there for him whenever he needed. But how?

The handcuffs weren't a problem at all – he could easily snap apart these shackles to get his hands free. The locked door hardly presented a problem – his Spider strength would see to that. But, doing so in front of Abbott and Costello here would cause problems of its own. This line of thinking led to more worries, however.

Once Peter arrived at the Police Department, he would be searched and in doing so, they would discover his web-shooters and worst of all, his Spiderman costume. With those in the possession of police, the obvious conclusion would be reached. In a matter of hours or even minutes, the entire world could know that he was Spiderman. Peter began to sweat, as his jubilation slipping into distress. Once again, Peter found his spirits falling like a snowflake. Kicking open the door and breaking the handcuffs would obviously raise a few questions, but the alternative was certain discovery of his secret identity as Spiderman.

Frowning and gritting his teeth, Peter began to slowly utilize his strength as he tried to slowly tear apart the handcuffs when the Police band radio came to life, breaking his concentration as Peter craned forward to listen to the urgent message.

"All available units respond immediately" said the disembodied voice over the radio as Abbott lunged forward to respond, "Bank robbery in progress at 40 E. 52nd Street – Bank of America. All available units respond immediately."

"It's only a couple blocks away." said Abbott, turning to his partner slightly, his eyes glistening with anticipation at the prospect of some more action.

Costello gave a nod, gripping the steering wheel a little more tightly as he reached over, flipping on the lights as the sound of the siren blared through the air, speeding now through the city streets in the haste to answer the call for help.

"Let's roll.", Costello called out as the vehicle roared to life, the speed increasing as they headed towards the scene of the crime, taking a little detour from their final destination. For the moment at least, impending discovery and disaster was averted.

"_Who would rob a bank now in the middle of the day?_", Peter thought to himself, "_They'd have to be out of their mind._"

It was beginning to be one of those days where Peter Parker would hate being right.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Numerous police officers surrounded the entrance to the Bank of America, all of them pointing their guns at the front entrance, with a Police captain obviously in command as he shouted into a megaphone, "Please come out with your hands up and surrender. We have you surrounded. There is no chance of escape. Please come out and surrender immediately."

Distinct radio chatter and whispering could be heard among the cops covering the entranceway as the squad car pulled to a slow halt – the sound of the siren's loud blare dying abrubly as the number of police officers responding to the call was increased by two.

Peter sat up straight, watching as 'Abbott' and 'Costello' lunged out of the squad car, instantly brandishing their guns as they spoke with the Captain - then took assigned positions covering the entrance.

The tension and buzz that surrounded the atmosphere was palpable as it escalated with each moment of silence, only ocassionally punctuated by the insistent barking of the Captain to surrender. The silence was suddenly broken by a slight ripple of laughter from within the Bank of America. This caused every officer standing outside to share astonished looks between them, but leaving their guns focused upon the entrance. Watching cautiously, Peter detected a slight trembling among them. This only intensified as the laughter progressed from light laughter to full blown sidesplitting laughter which sounded eerie as it grew louder and louder, echoing off the walls as it spilled off into the frigid afternoon air.

Peter began to feel a sinking feeling in his stomach, sitting up straight as suddenly the laughter died abruptly, leaving avoid of silence. The silence didn't last long though, as the Police Captain, shouted once again into his megaphone, "Please come out and surrender. We have you…"

But, the captain was cut off by a sudden voice from within the Bank, which sounded oddly jovial considering the circumstances, "I heard you the first time. I'm coming out, but don't shoot. I have a hostage." Not only did the voice sound curiously gleeful, but also very familiar to Peter.

Peter watched intently as four men walked out of the bank, all of them clad in ridicously garish sweaters and masks, which you might see ordinarily on young children at Halloween. In that situation, you might smile and find them amusing, but certainly nothing was amusing about them or the machine guns they pointed back at the police as they exited the bank. Each of the criminals had in the other hand a large duffel bag, undoubtedly filled with cash. None of these was the source of the voice, which followed out only seconds later.

The man was dressed in a bright purple suit, complete with matching pinstriped pants. White shoes clacked along the pavement as the wind brushed through his bright green hair, his face was chalk white, with blood red lips and wearing the biggest smile Peter had ever seen. In one white gloved hand, he held a large muzzled revolver, which was pointed at the object in his other hand, a yellow rubber chicken.

Peter sucked in his breathe as he recognized the man instantly as the Joker, watching the same flash of recognition appear in the eyes of numerous officers as a ripple of voices spread through the officers. Within moments, everybody knew their adversary.

"Nobody move, or the chicken gets it! I'll kill him – I mean it!" the Joker said – a statement which was followed by what can best be described as crazed, maniacal laughter as he grinned widely.

Nobody laughed along with him though.

"Joker – you can't possibly escape. Please surrender immediately." The Police Captain said, although Peter could've sworn a slight tremor existed in his voice.

"It seems my reputation has preceded me." stated the Joker, unable to keep the obvious pleasure at this fact hidden as he stepped forward, causing several officers to tremble with their trigger finger, tensed to shoot, "What's the problem here officers? Surely you heard the laughter – everybody here is just having a good time."

"Joker," the Captain said, "Please put the gun down and surrender."

"What about the chicken?" the Joker said in mock surprise and anger, "Is nobody concerned about the life of this innocent chicken?" as he gestured threateningly at the chicken, a crazed look flashing in his eyes.

"Please – please put the chicken down.", the police captain said, obviously forced and through gritted teeth.

"_I never thought I'd hear that one from a member of law enforcement_." Peter Parker thought to himself, "_But this certainly is a day of firsts_."

The Joker chortled upon hearing this, smirking as he took another step forward, eyes narrowing, "Well, what do I owe the audience? Do you want to hear a joke from the Clown Prince of Crime?", almost giggling as he appeared in complete control of the situation, despite the numerous guns pointed at him. Without waiting for an answer, he rattled off a particularly offensive joke towards policemen, roaring with laughter as the police captain clearly grew frustrated.

"Put the gun down now, Joker!" he shouted into the bullhorn, "Surrender immediately or we will open fire!"

The Joker's permanent smile never left his face, though his eyes glinted with uncontrolled rage as the laughter slowed down to a low, unhinged chuckle.

"Tough crowd.", said the Joker with a shrug, appearing to be genuinenly

bewildered as to his failure to elicit a laugh, beaming with laughter, "Well, either laugh right now or Chicken Little here is going to have a much bigger worry than the sky falling!"

Silence reigned for only a second, before a gunshot rang through the air and fragments of rubber chicken exploded through the air, falling to the ground as the Joker grinned, laughing in his eerie manner.

"Tsk, Tsk, Tsk." said the Joker, wagging his finger back and forth, "Now look what you've done.", taking another step forward, exuding confidence with each step.

"Joker – stay right where you are or we'll shoot.", the police captain said, "Stop right there."

Grinning, the Joker stood there, gazing at the police officer with an unblinking gaze as he stated coolly, "You didn't say please."

The police officer's jaw tightened as he spoke angrily, "Please Joker – surrender immediately and put your gun down." All eyes remained fixed and riveted on the Joker.

Peter, however, noticed the green gas emanated from the remains of the chicken as did the other officers, but too late as somebody tried to shout out Captain, but in vain, barely choking out the words as the Captain emmitted a loud guffaw.

Soon, the air was filled with chuckles, chortles, giggles, snickers, snorts and loud laughter. The Captain managed to get off one solitary shot, going far wide of the Joker as he stood there, watching his handiwork with obvious pride. The Joker gas had the officers reeling in laughter, doubled over as tears ran down their cheeks and within moments, they were on the ground. Kicking their feet as they convulsed with howls of glee, as the laughter slowly faded and their faces were frozen in a permanent smile.

Peter watched in horror as the Joker walked over to the police captain, looking down at him with obvious contempt and then started to walk away, motioning for his fellow clowns to follow him. At the last moment though, his eyes focused on Peter in the back seat of the squad car as he gave a laugh – heading his direction.

"Well, hello there kiddo," as the Joker flashed his trademark grin, "Looks like we have another misunderstood citizen here. I was just making a withdrawal from the bank like anybody else. What did they accuse you of?"

"Murder.", Peter said truthfully, watching the Joker carefully. Examing him up close, Peter looked into his eyes, which seemed like pools of poison glinted back at him.

Giggling as he stared at Peter, cocking his head to the side, "Congratulations - who'd you kill?"

Peter gritted his teeth, evenly saying, "My wife."

The Joker tossed his head back, laughing manically as he reached up to the carnation on his lapel, squeezing it as a thin stream of acid shot out onto the door handle, hearing the sizzle of acid melting the metal away as the Joker gave the door a kick, watching it pop open slightly.

"Well, good for you." the Joker said, beaming, "That's the way to do it. It's a lot easier than divorce, kiddo." as the Joker walked away, laughing crazily in between whistling to the tune of "I Shot the Sheriff."

Immediately, Peter kicked open the door as he pulled his wrists apart, snapping the handcuffs as he leaped out onto the pavement, standing there as he gazed first upon the police officers, sprawled upon the ground with their faces frozen in grotesque smiles. Then, Peter spun around to see the Joker.

But, the Joker was gone and moments later, so was Peter. In his place, Spiderman was swinging over the streets of New York City.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

"Were Peter and Mary Jane having any problems, Mrs. Parker?" the police officer asked the grey-haired woman sitting on the couch, obviously shaken by the news they had given her. Blinking back a tear or two, she maintained her composure somehow.

"It's Miss Parker.", the woman said, smiling wistfully for a moment before directing her attention back to the matter at hand, "And no. Mary Jane and Peter weren't having any problems that I'm aware of."

The police officer scribbled this down into a notebook, peering over his glasses at her. He was a tall man, muscular with short blonde hair buzzed on top. His name badge read Ackerman and he sat down in a seat across from her.

"No problems at all, ma'am?" Ackerman queried, "Are you sure?"

"Well, of course they were having problems." Aunt May responded calmly, "All married couples have problems, but just normal things. Nothing that would ever lead to this."

"Of course ma'am", Ackerman replied, a response which led to further scribbling in the notebook, "So, in your opinion, is Peter capable of murder?"

"You just told Mary Jane isn't dead. She's still alive, isn't she?" Aunt May asked, eyes narrowing as she turned the questions around on the officer now.

"Mary Jane's condition is stable for now." Ackerman answered calmly, nodding "But, could you just please answer the question – is he capable of murder?"

"I doubt it." Aunt May scoffed, "Peter couldn't hurt a fly. He's been in a fight or two over the years, but murder?" In her heart, she knew that Peter would never murder and never would have harmed Mary Jane.

"So, it's your belief that Peter and Mary Jane Watson have a healthy relationship?" the officer asked, eyes focused back on Aunt May rather than his notebook.

"Very much so." Aunt May answered emphatically, eyes fixing the officers with a steely gaze, "They are a happily married couple and their relationship is as strong as any relationship I know. They remind me of Ben and I at that age." Smiling as she leaned back in her rocking chair, folding her hands across her lap as she awaited the officer's next question.

But the next question never came as his partner entered the room , gazing at him, appearing unsettled and upset.

Immediately his partner, Frampton, setated, "There's been a situation."

Ackerman rose to his feet, facing the officer as he flipped shut his notebook, eyes narrowing as he nodded, "What situation?"

"The Joker just appeared at the Bank of America." Frampton said in a rush, "He killed 19 of our officers – including Captain Harris."

"What?" Ackerman said with a shout, obviously agitated as he stepped forward, "We need to get over there immediately."

Turning to face Aunt May he said, "We'll call you if we have any more questions." as he headed out the door."

"There's more." Frampton said, following his partner as he attempted to match his stride, "Peter Parker escaped during the bank robbery. He's missing."

This stopped Ackerman in his tracks at the doorway – almost out of the living room as silence reigned for a moment before both Ackerman and Aunt May shouted, "What?"

The question was rhetorical though as Ackerman turned to face Aunt May, eyes narrowed, obviously upset over the senseless deaths of his fellow officers and now added to it was the escape of a suspect. So, the next words probably spilled over from that fountain of anger.

"Still think he's innocent then?" and without waiting for an answer, Ackerman spun on his heels, storming out towards the squad car. With an apologetic nod, Frampton followed. Aunt May could only gasp, slumping further into the rocking chair as she finally had a chance to sit back and contemplate this sudden turn of events. Grabbing a tissue, clutching it in her wrinkled fist, dabbing at her eyes, listening to the tires of the squad car squealing on the pavement below. As the tears began to flow, she was suddenly startled by a knock on the window.

Giving a startled squeal, Aunt May turned to face the window and there was Spiderman.

* * *

For several minutes after his liberation from the back of the squad car, Spiderman had swung high over the rooftops of New York City in search of the Joker, but the Joker had effectively disappeared – for now. While normally he would still be out searching, he found other things more pressing at the moment. It took only a second of pondering and a few minutes of web slinging to reach his next destination. He need answers and not too many people would be forthcoming with answers at the moment. But, he was certain there would be one person that would help him out. That was how Spiderman found himself knocking insistently and hopefully on the window of Aunt May's apartment.

* * *

The window immediately opened as Spiderman slipped inside the apartment, immediately greeted by the familiar scent of vanilla as he faced Aunt May. Stepping away from the window, the mask came off as he stared into Aunt May's questioning eyes.

Her voice quavering as she stared right back, trembling slightly, "I have to ask, Peter – did you do it?"

"Of course not!" Peter responded indignantly, although he really couldn't blame her for asking, "Please just listen to me."

Breathing a sigh of relief, Aunt May lunged forward to give Peter a surprisly strong hug, gripping him tightly as he hugged her just as tightly back. If Peter had been able to look into her eyes, he would've seen vindication in them and on her face, a weak smile that she barely managed.

"What's going on, Peter?" Aunt May asked before Peter even had a chance to speak. Peter smiled, looking at this woman fondly – the woman who raised him.

Peter was glad she knew he was Spiderman now – as much as he knew it was necessary, he hated lying to those he loved. Even though Aunt May and Peter didn't always agree with regards to Spiderman, Peter only knew it was a relief that the lies didn't have to continue anymore and there weren't any copies of the Daily Bugle lying around.

"I don't know, Aunt May." Peter answered, making sure he stood clear of the window as he steered Aunt May onto a nearby couch, sitting down beside her, "But I'm going to find out. I need to know some things so I can though"

"I know you didn't kill her," Aunt May pronounced triumpantly, gazing at Peter, "What do you want to know?"

"Well, first of all, you've heard MJ is ok – do you know where they took her?" Peter asked, anxious to see his wife, even if she was in a coma.

"I know they took her to Bellevue." Aunt May said, her trembling slowling down now and the tears drying on her cheeks as Peter had a comforting arm around her, "But I don't know what room."

"That's ok, Aunt May. I'll find out." Peter said, sitting there for a moment as he imagined going to visit Mary Jane at Bellevue Hospital.

"Well, why did you run?" Aunt May asked sharply, "The police are all going to think that you're guilty."

"They already think that I'm guilty." Peter responded quickly, "Because they said they had a witness. Who?"

"Anna Watson, Peter." Aunt May stated, "According to her, she was meeting Mary Jane for lunch and maybe some Christmas shopping. She said she saw you there leaving the apartment and when she went in, that's when she found Mary Jane."

"Well, that wouldn't leave many options, " Peter mused aloud, "But it couldn't have been me. I was actually out Christmas shopping."

"Well, if it wasn't you," Aunt May wondered, then continued, "Then who?"

Peter rose from the couch, donning his Spiderman mask once again as he spoke with complete conviction and a hard edge tohis voice, "That's something I intend to find out. I'll find out who set me up and hurt Mary Jane." as he strode towards the window, opening it once again as cold air shot into the apartment.

"Be careful, dear." Aunt May said worriedly, gazing at Peter as she stepped forward.

Underneath the mask, Peter gave a smile, stepping outside the window onto the ledge, "It's going to be ok, Aunt May. Don't worry." and with that, the window shut and Spiderman swung out into the city.

"I will." Aunt May said softly, breathing in deeply as she stared at the window, eyes watching her nephew as he webbed his way over towards Bellevue. Lord, would she ever worry.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

J. Jonah Jameson shot up like a bottle rocket in his seat, his mustache bristling as a cigar fell from his mouth, eyes widening as he shouted, "What's this about Parker? He was supposed to be in here later today! Now, he's accused of murdering his wife?"

Jameson stood there, face red as he looked at Robby, his right hand man. Robby gave a nod, equally shocked by the news as he gave his boss a second to absorb the information. Jameson spun away from the desk, picking up his cigar as he puffed on it intently for a moment, running a hand through his short hair, black with some grey at the temples. It took a few more minutes before he spun back around.

"Parker isn't even capable of hurting a fly, Robbie! The kid's a wimp!" Jameson shouted, regaining his usual bluster in the face of this news, "You better give me the details right now."

Nodding softly, Robby began to relay all the details he knew so far in his usual, calm manner. It was this steadiness that had allowed him to climb the ranks at the Daily Bugle. Robbie had the patience of a saint, but had distinguished himself from the other journalists at the Bugle by being the only one not intimidated by Jameson's usual belligerent manner and would openly defy him on issues that Robbie deemed worthy, such as the issue of Spiderman.

Robbie stood there at the desk, leaning over it as Jameson sat down, listening to the story until the very end of the story, where Parker was being transported to the police station for questioning.

"I don't think Parker would kill Mary Jane either." is how Robbie finished the story, "Have you seen them together?"

"Of course I've seen them together!", Jameson snapped, though with less of his usual rage as he looked around, "I already told you Parker's not guilty. I told you he's too much of a wimp to hurt anybody and well, Parker he's a good kid."

Jameson struggled to avoid sounding compassionate at all in any situation, but despite his usual treatment of Parker, Robbie knew he cared about him and was one of his favorite employees.

"Well, what are we gonna do?" Robbie asked.

"Well, the Daily Bugle will stand behind its own!" Jameson said, pounding his fist on the desk, "This will make great news. The Bugle defending one of their star photographers against this accusation. Can't you just see the headlines?"

Jameson went over to grab his coat, "Grab your coat, Robbie. We're gonna go down and talk to Parker to get his side of the story. This is going into the evening edition!"

"I think there's something you ought to know first." said a voice from the doorway, "Parker's not at the police station."

Jameson spun around, seeing Ben Urich standing in the doorway as his eyes narrowed as he shouted out, "What do you mean Parker's not there?"

Ben Urich, a star reporter for the Daily Bugle stood in the doorway, holding a piece of paper in between two fingers as he waved it in the air, "A lot's happenned since Parker was captured. The Bank of America was robbed for one thing."

Jameson looked over to his police scanner, surprised to remember that he had turned it off earlier in anger, then shocked at having missed such an important news story as one of the largest banks in the city being robbed in the middle of the day.

"Who robbed the bank, Urich?" Jonah demanded, taking a step towards the doorway.

Acting as if he hadn't heard, Urich read over the piece of paper for a moment, adjusting his glasses, "It would appear that in the midst of responding to the robbery and the ensuing chaos, Parker escaped police custody."

Jameson cursed, stamping his foot as Robby asked, with all the serenity he could manage at the moment, "Parker's a fugitive?", then reiterated the earlier question, "Who robbed the bank, Ben?".

Obviously cherishing such privileged information over Jameson as Urich paused for dramatic effect as he handed the paper over to the chief editor of the Daily Bugle with a flourish as he pronounced, "The Joker!"

And for the second time that day, Jameson's cigar fell out of his mouth as his jaw dropped.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Spiderman stood outside of the window, ignoring the biting cold and the snow that fell on his costume. Below him, traffic continued moving at a steady pace as a car suddenly skidded on the ice, causing a fender bender as both occupants of the car emerged, yelling at one another as obscenities and a constant stream of honking ensued. An ocassional tourist would point up at Spiderman, amazed at seeing him in person. Spiderman stood near the window, head peeking in as he looked at the occupant, standing so still that a passing bird mistook him for a statue, landing on him for a moment before Spiderman shrugged it off.

Behind the costume, nobody could see the tears welling up in his eyes, fighting them back as he pounded his fist against the granite wall in frustration. Laying there on the bed was the love of his life, dressed in a simple hospital gown now, with all sorts of tubes attached to her body as her every vital sign and heartbeat was monitored as IV tubes brought her precious medicine.

Spiderman leaned against the wall as he looked at his wife, listening to the steady beat of the heart monitor as he smiled softly, noticing how beautiful his wife was even as Mary Jane Watson was fighting for her life. It was a brave smile as he brought up his hand to wipe away a tear that was forming, that was followed by a soft chuckle as he realized that his Spiderman mask was in the way.

The tear fell down his cheek unhindered as Peter leaned against the wall, quiet in reflection as he listened to the steady beep of the monitor. For each heartbeat MJ had, there followed a beep. That steady beep was the only indication that his wife was alive and so, in some small way, he found the constant beeping comforting. As long as the beeping continued, his wife lived. With each beep, there was hope.

Listening to that beeping, he allowed his thoughts to drift away to the past for a moment as he remain firmly perched upon the window ledge monitoring his wife.

_The indelible image was stamped into his mind of the girl standing on his doorstep, giving that winning smile that had stolen his heart so many years ago. This red-haired beauty stood, leaning against the doorframe as she said those words that he could never, ever forget._

_"Face it, Tiger." Mary Jane watson had said, hands on her hips and a smirk on her lips, "You just hit the jackpot."_

_Peter thought back to his expression of shock and surprise as he could only stutter out the words,managing to stammer "You're Mary Jane Watson?" at the same time he tried to close his mouth. MJ didn't meet any of the expectations that he had in his mind, from the moment that Aunt May had suggested the blind date with Anna Watson's niece. In fact, he had quite rather pictured her as a nice girl, with good friends, knows how to knit and can even make homemade soup. _

_The truth was that Mary Jane didn't fall into any category that he could've imagined. In that moment, everything changed. Before he opened the door to greet Mary Jane Watson, all that he could think of was, "How long is this going to take?" As it turned out, the answer would be a lifetime._

The beeping stopped. With no warning, that steady beep had been replaced with one long beep. Within seconds, this was followed by a steady stream of doctors and nurses in to make sure that beeping resumed. A flurry of frantic activity ensued. It was a testament to how busy they were that didn't notice Spiderman standing at the window.

Commands were shouted throughout the room as that long, slow beeping sound became a hateful sound. Scared and angry, Spiderman resisted the urge to dash into the sterile room, demanding to know what they were doing and what was wrong with his wife. The only reason he didn't is because this was one area that Spiderman couldn't help with.

His powers weren't allowing him to see through the sea of the doctors and nurses fighting to get his wife back to normal. His spider strength or agility certainly couldn't make her heart start beating again, no matter how hard he wanted to. His spider sense certainly didn't warn him of this tragedy befalling his wife. In fact, he was virtually helpless like MJ was. He moved away from the window, saying a silent prayer for his wife as he leaned against the ledge.

It seemed like an eternity before the beeping resumed. In fact, it had been just ten minutes. That same ten minutes Suddenly, he found he was able to breathe normally once again as he peeked into the window. The doctors and nurses all stood nearby, watching for a second as they all breathed a collective sigh of relief and then, one by one they filed out of the room until they were only two left – a doctor and a nurse.

After checking the monitor and the tubing, the doctor moved to the end of the bed, flipping through the the chart at the nurse, whose name tag read Kittiwake, looked up to the doctor and asked softly, "Dr. Stone, can you tell me exactly wrong with her?"

"Well, we don't know.", Dr. Stone looked up as he frowned a bit, "The patient was attacked in her home, but there's only mild bruising, indicating a struggle but that doesn't explain her condition. We did find a needle mark on her neck though, which would suggest a poison of some sort."

"Did they find anything in the blood tests?" Nurse Kittiwake asked hopefully.

"They haven't come back yet." Dr. Stone replied as he scribbled yet another notation on the chart, "But, we're hopeful."

The conversation continued as Dr. Stone and Nurse Kittiwake exited the room, heading to visit other patients undoubtedly as Peter didn't really hear any more as his mind was racing. MJ was poisoned? A million thoughts were swirling through his head, all with the common theme of why somebody would poison MJ, but none of them made any sense at all.

Of course, that would be fitting in with the overall pattern of this day. Nothing about this day made sense at all. MJ lay there in a hospital bed, in a coma. Here he was, unable to visit her in her hour of need because he was the one accused of putting her in there in the first place.

All of those thoughts in his mind came forward to form one common goal: One way or another, he would find out who did this to Mary Jane. When he did, he would make them pay.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Spiderman leaned against the window one last time, gazing in at his comatose wife and blew her a gentle, loving kiss. Peter tried to remember that old fairy tale. Which one was it? Sleeping Beauty? How he wished that a simple kiss on the lips would wake his wife up. MJ's eyes would flutter open and with a smile, she could tell everybody that it was all just a big, huge mistake and they could go home to celebrate Christmas.

Spiderman shook his head bitterly as he knew this was all just wishful thinking and unfortunately, wishes didn't make it so. Looking at his wife, he whispered those three little words: "I love you." Those three little words that he told his wife every day and that he'd told his wife today before they parted for…

"_The last time?" _a voice inside his head asked. Angrily, he cursed the voice as his heart told him otherwise. His mind told him that MJ was lost to him and his heart told him she would wake up again. It had been a struggle between the two since the moment he'd heard and had not stopped the entire time since he'd been standing here on the ledge. When Mary Jane's heart had stopped earlier, his mind had taken advantage. But, looking upon her as he whispered those three little words again – those words that he meant even today – and began to swing away from the hospital, his heart won again.

He didn't have long to dwell on this victory, however. Spiderman had managed to swing only a block or two from the hospital when he suddenly felt the web line he was swinging from severed as he started to plummet towards the ground. For the briefest moment, he wondered why his Spider Sense had failed to alert him to this danger but as he looked up, this question was instantly and unfortunately answered. Could this day get any worse?

Spiderman shot out a web immediately as he stopped his descent, still slightly shocked as he cracked into the wall with a loud crack, his shoulder smashing into it as he then shot out another web line. Using this webline to ascend into the air, and then a third propelled him onto the roof as he flipped onto it in order to come face to face with…

Nothing. Before him was empty rooftop. Scanning the rooftop in all directions, he could see nothing.

But, he had been so sure that he'd seen Venom. Those hateful eyes, the gaping mouth with razor sharp teeth and that tounge that put Gene Simmons to shame. It was almost impossible to mistake, but there was nobody here. Yet, something or somebody had cut the web line as he held the severed remnant in his hand.

But Venom? Nobody had seen or heard from him for months and for him to resurface now was almost impossible for Spiderman to consider. Rubbing his sore shoulder slightly, he felt forced to attribute seeing Venom to the overwhelming stress of the day. Spiderman searched the rooftop and the surrounding buildings, only to discover no sign that Venom had ever been there. Even so, he felt cautious enough to swing by Mary Jane's hospital room and looking in the window, he reassured himself that she was safe. Taking notice of the disappearing daylight, he decided it was time to crash. Mentally and physically exhausted, he couldn't or didn't feel like pushing himself any longer. The person or persons who attacked his wife were out there and he couldn't even think clearly. Now of course, the big question was where to sleep for the night.

Normally, no matter what occurred in his life as Spiderman, he could fall back on his semi-normal life as Peter Parker, faithful husband and photographer for the Daily bugle. Now of course, all pretense of normality for his alter-ego had vanished as he stood accused of attempted murder. Crashing at Aunt May's was out of the question as was his own apartment, seeing as it was a crime scene at the moment. In fact, who would willingly harbor somebody who was being chased by the police for attacking their own wife and putting them in a coma?

Spiders live in webs, don't they? In a brief flash, he imagined himself falling asleep in a web that he spun in some back alley or a web hammock on a rooftop. With Venom possibly on the loose though, with numerous other villians at large and those other common criminals who seem to come out at night – all of whom would leap at the chance to kill him – he began to seriously doubt that he would get a good night's sleep.

So now, he wondered how do criminals live? How do they evade the police and when they do, where do they stay? You'd think after all these years of catching them, he'd have a better idea of the criminal mentality. In order to find the answers to these questions, he decided to head towards the seedier district of town where the slums of New York City were.

Along the way, he stopped a robbery and amugging. The mugger was attempting to steal a woman's Christmas presents, which caused him to vaguely wonder what happened to the Christmas presents that he last saw scattered in the snow as he was being dragged into the backseat of a police car. As he left the mugger webbed up and suspended from a lampost, he was pretty sure he left that mugger with a broken nose too. Our local friendly neighborhood Spiderman wasn't feeling very friendly tonight.

Finally, he lowered himself into a dark alley and wrinkled his nose as this whole section of the city smelled like a mixture of raw cabbage, rotten eggs and fecal matter. Taking a quick look around to make sure nobody was watching, he then made the transition from Spiderman to Peter Parker. Removing his clothes from the web pouch, he finally buttoned up his shirt over the Spiderman logo and found himself wincing a bit as his shoulder was slightly sore from smashing into that wall.

Walking out of the alley, he looked around at the area slowly. There was one group huddled out in the open, looking around and even without his Spider sense, he could tell drugs were being traded and purchased there. Blinking a bit, Peter began to shuffle down the street and did his best not to attract attention. Two prostitutes, still scantily clad despite this cold weather, made him several offers that made his ears burn slightly as he ignored them. In fact, he could barely register their comments as he looked at the various signs on the buildings, advertising everything from strip clubs to bars, and in most cases, a combination of both.

What finally caught his eye wasn't the large sign that read "7th Heaven Bar." in neon letters that flickered on and off with a crackle of electricity, but the handwritten sign that was illuminated underneath in block letters that said: Room for Rent.

Pushing open the door, the smell of raw cabbage all but disappeared. In its place came cigarettes and alcohol. The thick haze of cigarette smoke hung in the air and unfortunately, the smell of cigarettes and alcohol was added to the already putried smell of rotten eggs and fecal matter. To his dismay, he found himself growing accustomed to the smell.

Immediately, he found himself drawing a few stares from the regulars. With a nervous smile and a wave, he willed himself towards the counter where a buxom young woman stood serving drinks.

Flipping her hair back, the young woman gazed at him with a soft smile, asking, "Can I help you?"

Peter regarded the young woman in front of him, as she was clad in a pair of blue jeans, a white t-shirt and oddly enough, a black pair of suspenders stretched over the t-shirt.

"Can I get you a drink?" she persisted, smiling at him as her brown eyes gazed back at him.

"No," Peter said, running his hand through his hair nervously, "Ummm. I actually wanted to ask about that room for rent."

Her smile became even bigger as she leaned over the counter towards him, giggling, "You want that room?"

Nodding, Peter confirmed that he did, "I don't know how long I'll need it, but I'd really like to rent it." Below the bar, Peter crossed his fingers and hoped that the rent wasn't too high.

"That's fine with me." she answered, grinning, "I'm Tifa by the way." as she extended her hand.

Taking her hand, shaking it firmly, "I'm…Bill." said Peter, not really having a desire to lie but pretty sure it wasn't a good idea to use his real name. Over the next few minutes, they discussed the price for the room and after giving her payment for tonight, she agreed to show him the room.

"Boys," she called back, "I'll be back in a few minutes.", but the 'boys' were either too drunk to care or were more interested in the closing minutes of a basketball game to care. Peter glanced at the television screen and it was absoutely no surprise to see the Knicks losing again. Rolling his eyes, he followed Tifa as she advised him to watch his head and together, they headed to a room over the apartment.

A single lightbulb illuminated the way up the stairs and following the pattern from the neon sign outside, flickered on and off. Tifa made small talk as he headed up the stairs and Peter responded as wittily as he could, but honestly it all barely registered as the only things that occupied his mind were Mary Jane and the thought of crashing into bed. Arriving at the top of the stairs, Tifa flung open the door with a grand flourish as she turned around, flashing him a smile.

"It's not much I know," Tifa grinned, "But, then again, you get what you pay for."

Peter looked around the room, leaning against the doorjam for a minute as the room had another flickering lightbulb overhead, with a wooden desk against one wall on which rested a single, beat-up alarm clock.. The other wall had a closet large enough to hold a few items of clothing and then last, but not least, there was a bed. The bed had a lumpy white pillow at the top of the bed, with matching bedsheets which looked far more clean than he would've been expecting from the appearance of the place downstairs.

Peter nodded gratefully as he gave a smile, "It's perfect." and for right now, it was.

Peter went to collapse onto the bed as he leaned back onto the bed and gave a sigh of relief as his head hit the pillow. Wearily, he closed his eyes as he stretched out onto the bed, not even bothering to remove his shoes as he pulled the cover up over his body.

"You sure I can't get you anything to eat or drink?" Tifa asked, after making sure everything was perfect and found to her surprise, that "Bill" was already asleep.

"Goodnight Bill." she said in a whisper and with a wink, "Sweet dreams." Then, she turned out the light and closed the door, locking it behind her as Peter didn't hear any of it. Peter Parker was out to the world.

* * *

Peter looked at the casket before him and resting inside, looking very serene was Mary Jane Watson. Eyes closed, her fiery red hair flowing out to the side as she wore a beautiful blue dress and even in death, she was beautiful. Peter stood impassively over the casket, gazing at his wife as he suddenly choked back tears, his eyes brimming with tears as he leaned down to give his wife a kiss. Just as he predicted of course, she didn't wake up. Sleeping Beauty, was after all, just a fairy tale. A hand on his shoulder pulled him back as Uncle Ben stood there, nodding gravely as Peter looked over at a fire ready to cremate his Mary Jane. On the verge of breaking down, his knees felt like jelly as he willed himself to meet the funeral director's gaze, who was a dour looking man whose face was etched with sadness.

Peter broke down in tears and immediately, he was enveloped in both arms by Uncle Ben and Aunt May as the fire blazed and roared to life. Through the tears, Peter gazed back at Mary Jane and as they went to close the casket, Peter saw her eyes widen with surprise and her mouth open in a silent scream.

Peter gave a huge intake of breathe as he pushed away from Uncle Ben and Aunt May, lunging for the casket. Too late, however, as the casket closed shut with a thud.

"She's alive!" he shouted repeatedly as he gripped the casket lid, trying to pry it open as it slid towards the flames. The lid wouldn't budge though as he listened to the agonizing screams of Mary Jane trapped inside.

Tears streaming down his cheeks as Peter shouted with increased rage, pounding on the lid of the casket, "Open up the casket now! She's alive!" and looked up to the funeral director. Instead of the funeral director, he met the maniacal face of Norman Osborn, who began cackling wickedly upon meeting his gaze.. He fell backwards in shock and surprise, about to topple to the floor when two pairs of arms caught him on either side. Looking over at the two faces on either side, he was shocked to see that Uncle Ben and Aunt May had been replaced by J. Jonah Jameson on his left and on his right, the spiteful face of Eddie Brock. With a viscious snarl, Eddie Brock's face transformed into Venom's as his mouth opened to reveal his pointed teeth as he joined with Norman Osborn in the laughter.

Peter struggled to twist free of their grasp, but his strength seemed to have left him as Venom wrapped his arms around him, interlocking his hands around his chest as he pulled him off the floor. Feet kicking, Peter screamed furiously as his eyes remained glued to the casket. Over the flickering roar of the flames and their evil laughter, the sound of Mary Jane's screams still reached his ears and then as the last part of the casket slid into the cremation chamber, the screams died and so did Mary Jane. Tears stained his cheeks, helpless as he tried to squirm free of Venom's grasp and looking over at J. Jonah Jameson, he found himself surprised as he saw Jameson scribbling the record of the whole incident in his notebook.

Then, the laughter abruptly stopped as Norman's face twisted into hatred, glaring at him. Then, he heard Venom rasp angrily, "Time for you to join her!" as he held Peter Parker in his arms, bringing him towards the fire where Mary Jane had just been burned alive. Kicking and screaming, twisting and writhing in Venom's grasp, determined to get free as he felt the flames licking at his feet…

* * *

Peter woke up, drenched in a cold sweat. Panting for breathe as he looked around, the sheets kicked off onto the floor and breathing heavily as he wiped the sweat off of his forehead. Realizing it was all a dream as his blurry eyes managed to focus on the alarm clock as it read 3:47 and the moonlight streaming through his window confirmed that it was still the middle of the night. It was at the moment, that his Spider Sense went off like crazy as he pushed himself out of bed, eyes darting around the room, half-expecting to see Venom crouched in the shadows.

Confused, Peter opened the door to head downstairs as he was met with the sudden image of several police offers running upstairs to apprehend him. Slamming the door shut with a crack, he twisted the lock shut and not a moment too soon. Angrily, the officers tried to twist the door knob, then screamed down to Tifa for the room key and seizing on this momentary respite, Peter gripped the bedside table to push it in front of the door, hoping it would delay the officers.

The NYPD offers outside pounded on the door in a fury, shouting that the place was surrounded as Peter stood in the room, comtemplating his next move as his eyes flickered towards the window and the door began to open. Not hesitating any longer, Peter wrenched the window open and leaped out just as the officers burst into the room in hot pursuit of one Peter Parker, fugitive.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

The leap out of the window didn't take him very far, as there was a fire escape right outside his window. Peter landed on both feet as his feet clanged with a thud onto the steel of the fire escape and behind him the officers brandished their guns, ordering him to "Freeze!" Peter, of course, did no such thing. Using his enhanced senses and speed, he allowed his eyes to flicker to the right, noticing the police officers in the alley. His eyes moved to the left and spotted a dumpster down below, with what appeared to be fresh trash inside. Lunging to his left, a police officer fired as the shot missed him just barely. No matter how many times Peter had experienced it, he never had gotten used to getting shot at.

There wasn't time to think about that, however, as Peter gripped the railing tightly, then pushed upwards to propel himself down towards the dumpster below. Thankfully, the doors of the dumpster had been left open as Peter tucked in his body, landing admidst the trash with a thud. Leftover food, beer bottles and other assorted items that had been disposed of were his cushion of safety. Peter didn't even have time to properly acknowledge the rancid smell of the dumpster as he went to roll to the side, grunting a bit as he went to flip himself out of the dumpster.

Landing on his feet outside of the dumpster, he was immediately faced with two police officers standing directly in front of him with their guns pointed directly at his head. Peter took a second to assess the situation, looking from the two officers in front of him and also at the police officers making their way down the fire escape. Peter knew he had to make his move immediately, as the officers recited the tired litany of ordering him to surrender and place his hands over his head.

Peter spun around with blinding speed as he shot his foot up into the police officer's stomach, immediately doubling him over. Just as quickly, he gripped the police officer's hand as he twisted the gun out of his hands, hearing it rather than watching it clatter to the ground below. Going to pivot off his foot now before the other police officer could react as his other foot went sailing into the other officer's face with a crack as he crumpled to the ground. Still holding onto the police officer's wrist with both hands now as he twisted his whole body to whip the officer into the group of police men arriving at the bottom of the ladder. Together, they collapsed to the ground in a heap of groans, curses and tangled limbs, effectively delaying them for at least a few seconds. The whole exchange had taken place in a matter of seconds.

"Sorry," Peter mumbled apologetically, before running forward to get himself out of the alley. His feet pounding along the cold pavement once again as snow sprayed up and the end of the alley was bathed in the familiar red and blue of flashing police lights. As always, police cars were accompanied by police officers and this was no exception. There at the end of the alley, stood one more officer, gun outstretched towards him as he gripped it tightly in both hands. The police officer stood at the end of the alley in an effort to block him. Tonight, however, Peter was not a man to be stopped. Peter leaned down on the run, managing to scoop up a trash can lid as he hurled in forward in one smooth motion, throwing it forward almost like a frisbee. The maneuver worked even better than expected, as Peter watched the trash can lid move forward with such force as it smacked into the police officer's chest. Immediately upon impact, Police Officer "Collins" as his nametag read, was knocked backwards to the ground and one more obstacle to Peter's freedom was removed.

"How about that, Captain America?" Peter thought wryly, shaking his head as he planted his feet and went to leap over the police car, landing on the other side. Ducking down, he used the police car for cover. Fortunately, the police officers were withholding their shots for fear of hitting the cars or their fellow officers nearby. Not even pausing to catch his breath, he was running across the street. Peter wasn't sure he was running to, but anywhere away from here. As compared to only a few minutes ago, the streets here were now empty. The gangs, the drug-pushers and prostitutes had all but disappeared out of fear for getting caught by the police officer brought about by Peter.

As Peter darted down the alley, he was dimly aware of how he had just taken down several of New York City's Finest. For that matter, he had taken them down in such a fashion that was contrary to his whole personality of Peter Parker. Hopefully, they would simply attribute it to adrenaline. Vaguely, he wondered how the police had found him. Of course, that answer became obvious very quickly as he recalled walking into the 7th Heaven Bar and how he must've stuck out like a sore thumb. There was no doubt that these people had any loyalties between criminals. It was only later on that Peter would learn about a reward put out by the Daily Bugle for his safe return and the cash reward was probably what led to his current crisis.

His next thought of course was directed at his current problem, which was for the second time in less than twenty four hours he was being pursued by the police who had the intent to arrest him. Shocked and surprised over the apparent death of his wife, he had managed to get caught the first time. This time, however, was completely different. Although he still found himself running for his freedom, he now also ran for Mary Jane. If he was trapped in prison, awaiting trial for a crime he never committed, whoever attacked his wife would never be found. Peter came to a fence and planting his feet in the ground, practically vaulted over the fence as he landed on the other side, hearing the officers shouts behind him as he grunted, continuing his escape.

A sudden intense flash of his Spider Sense commanded his attention as he burst out onto the open street as he heard the screeching tires of a police car coming towards him, the driver slamming on his brakes to avoid hitting him. Not even stopping for a second as his frame was illuminated in the headlights, the blaring of the police sirens cutting through the night air. He felt himself stumbling to the side as the bumper of the police car nudged him slightly in pain. Grunting a bit, he pushed himself forward into the relative darkness of the alley. Behind him, the police car doors slammed as they continued their pursuit on foot.

Despite the cold night air, he found himself sweating as he went to dart into the alley to his left. As he did so, his Spider Sense flared and then, so did his shoulder. Behind him, a police officer fired his gun at Peter and somehow managed to hit Peter in his shoulder. Giving a shout as he stumbled to the side, bringing his hands up to his shoulder and although he knew he'd been shot, was still surprised to see blood streaming out of his shoulder. Gripping his shoulder as he fell sideways into the wall for a second, gritting his teeth in pain as he pushed onwards down the alley. A blood red trail dropped behind him slightly with each step he took as he heard the police gaining on him now. Daring a glance behind him, he saw the two police officers from the car as he planted his feet, leaping up in the air to move forward as far as possible.

Landing hard and wincing in pain, he staggered sideways into a door, using his dwindling strength to slam the door open as the officers came up behind him. Only barely was he able to slam the door, locking it as he slumped back against the door, clutching his shoulder as he looked around. Peter found himself inside what looked like a warehouse as he struggled to think what to do next. Thinking in this case was more difficult with the officers, pounding on the door and shouting on the radio for reinforcements. The bleeding didn't help either.

Stumbling forwards, Peter somehow managed to somehow stay on his feet as he ripped off a piece of his shirt, wrapping it around his shoulder. The shred of shirt quickly was stained red, with the blood flowing freely now as he leaned against a set of barrels, holding onto them for support. The screeching of tires outside commanded his attention, the place being surrounded as the bandage started to take effect. Gritting his teeth, he saw that the door was surprisingly holding up against the officer's constant pounding as his eyes flickered around.

His eyes widened in surprise as he found himself in a drug laboratory. Abandoned at the moment, the warehouse appeared to be dedicated to the production of methamphetamine or meth, a wildly addictive and powerful central nervous system stimulant. Peter looked around, remembering a story that was written by a bugle reporter last year on its rising influence in New York City. Peter looked around, surprised that there wasn't more security around, but couldn't complain and could only assume that they'd left upon the news of police in this section of the city.

In those next few moments, Peter struggled to remember everything about this popular drug. All Peter could really remember was how popular it was, because of how it was relatively cheap to manufacture. This was due to the fact that it could be made from ordinary items available at your retail outfits, such as cold and allergy medicines or even household items. There was something else that Peter knew was important about it, but it escaped him at the moment.

Once again, the police demanded his surrender. Gripping the door, he gazed around at counter after counter filled with materials for creating this illegal drug. A small puddle of blood started to form at the bottom of the door, almost slipping in it as he pushed away from the door. Getting a healthy distance from the door was one of his first priorities and among his second priority was keeping away from the windows. The reinforcements continued to arrive as the place was now completely surrounded, a fact that the police officers didn't fail to remind him of every few seconds through megaphones.

Blinking in pain, he held onto his shoulder as he thought of an escape plan. Peter knew he wouldn't be much use to MJ captured, but he wouldn't be of much help to her dead in a police shoot-out either. For a moment, Peter considered surrendering to the police and then in the next few seconds, all his options were removed. The police gave him once more chance to surrender, as Peter leaned against a table. The smell of chemicals filled the air as he weighed his options. Apparently, he took too long as the police officers suddenly kicked the door open, with three of them bursting in and their guns pointed directly at Peter. Even in his pained state, he went to flip backwards away from the police officers as one of them opened fire on him.

Landing on his feet behind one of the tables, the bullets ripped through tanks of chemicals as the one fact that had eluded Peter earlier suddenly came back with a flash. Knowing chemicals like he did, Peter couldn't believe he had forgotten the dangerous nature of methamphetamine labs, which were that most of the elements involved in its creation were both toxic and combustible. This was illustrated within the next few seconds as an explosion occurred, one of the tanks exploding as the officers backed away out of the door, giving frantic shouts that Peter couldn't make out. Peter himself was knocked back against the opposite wall, slumping down against it as he moaned out. His shoulder burned in agony, his head spinning as a fire begin to rage inside of the room as smoke rose through the air, blurring his vision as he coughed.

Unable to see the police officers, he vaguely wondered what they were doing and as he realized he couldn't see them, he realized they couldn't see him either. The explosion had broken the windows as smoke filtered out through the window, obscuring the moonlight as he extended a hand out, activating his web shooter as he allowed himself to be yanked up out of the room as the explosions continued. Thankfully, the police were too focused on the fire as they radioed for the fire department to notice a solitary figure shooting upwards towards a nearby roof.

Crashing atop the roof in a heap, he leaned against it as his body was covered in soot as he was definitely dizzy, blinking as he pushed himself up against the wall. The explosions rocked the house as he could only watch the house burn to the ground, watching carefully for any sign that an officer was trapped inside although he wasn't sure that in his current state that he could rescue anybody. He would certainly try, but taking a moment to rest atop the nearby roof, he was finally satisfied that nobody was trapped inside and the fire department arrived to put out the fire. Groaning in pain, gripping his shoulder as he tied the makeshift bandage even tighter, he crawled away from the side of the roof. Sliding his Spiderman mask on, he went swinging in shadows away from the fire. Residents emerged from their houses, watching the fire with morbid interest as the news agencies arrived to capture the tragic end to a police chase.

Peter knew he couldn't push himself much longer with him bleeding like he was and the makeshift bandage was only prolonging the inevitable as he was almost to the point of exhausting. The continued blood loss left him dizzy and weak, but somehow he forced himself to keep swinging until he reached another neighborhood, one which was decidedly more upscale. Somehow, he still managed to keep moving, since Peter knew the moment he stopped again, he would probably collapse.

Lowering himself to the ground gently, he removed his Spiderman mask and immediately webbed his Spiderman outfit against a wall, making sure that it would stay hidden even during the day, which was rapidly approaching. At the moment, however, it was still dark out and this suburban neighborhood was illuminated only slightly by a few street lights. Stumbling up to the door, he gritted his teeth together as he knocked on the door, hoping that its occupant was home. His shoulder underwent a spasm of agony, knocking on the door once again as he willed himself to stay conscious for a few moments more. Just as he thought he was about to pass out though, the door opened and Peter collapsed to the floor with a thud.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Peter stirred slowly as he rubbed his eyes, groaning as his eyes fluttered open as they started to focus on his surroundings. Grunting a bit, he pushed himself up on the couch as he found himself wearing a light blue t-shirt now. This one was thankfully not soaked with blood as he gritted his teeth a bit, using his free hand to push himself to a sitting position as he kicked the blankets off of him. Gingerly, he gripped the hem of his t-shirt as he yanked it up a bit, sliding it up over his head as he went to examine his shoulder. Peter was pleasantly surprised to find that his shoulder was expertly bandaged, and where his shoulder should probably be on fire, there was only a gentle throbbing sensation. Rubbing it gently, he shifted so he was sitting on the edge of the couch, with his legs kicking out over the edge of the couch and hanging just above the floor of the basement.

Peter looked around the room, immediately searching for a clock to discover how long he'd been out and he was shocked to find there was no clock down in the basement. In fact, apart from the couch, there wasn't a whole lot of substance in the basement. Peter sat there for a second, eyes falling upon a work table across from the couch on the far wall. Surrounding the work table were numerous unpacked boxes, bearing neatly written labels to indicate the contents inside. Peter cocked his head to the side, observing that inside of those various cardboard boxes, according to the labels, were items such as lab materials, books and memorabilia, among other things.

The box labeled memorabilia was partially opened, with a picture of a woman emerging from the top. Peter knew without even looking who the picture was, shaking his head sadly as he went to go push himself to his feet as his nostrils inhaled the scent of coffee wafting down from upstairs. Wobbling a bit unsteadily, he started to move towards the stairs cautiously when the door at the top of the stairs creaked open and flooded the downstairs with light. His body tensed a bit, his eyes adjusting to the light as a shadowy figure started to come down the stairs as a familiar, reassuring voice called out, "Glad to see you're awake, Peter."

Despite the calm nature of the voice, he felt his Spider sense flash a bit as Dr. Curt Connors reached the bottom of the stairs with a cup of coffee in one hand, a paper tucked under his arm and a smile on his face. Peter gave a weak smile in return, finding himself slightly dizzy as he walked back towards the couch to sit down and gratefully accepted the cup of coffee that Dr. Connors slid into his hand.

Taking a rejuvenating sip, he thanked him for the coffee as he responded with, "Morning, Dr. Connors."

"You seem to be doing pretty well, Peter." said Dr. Connors, "How's your shoulder?" as he used his hand to check the bandages.

Peter winced involuntarily as he leaned backwards onto the couch, slightly guided by Connors as he illustrated the bedside manner which he had probably used during the war working with soldiers. It was in fact during that same war that he'd lost his arm in a blast, which would ultimately lead to a tragic series of events.

Curt Connors was a gifted surgeon, but the blast forced him to amputate his arm. Returning to the United States, he became consumed with the idea of regaining his lost arm and this eventually lead him to reading up on reptilian biology. Specifically, Dr. Connors was intrigued by the fact that some reptiles could grow back their limbs in the event that they lost them. Mixing reptile DNA with a serum of his own making, he consumed the serum. The serum was overwhelmingly successful, as his arm grew back. Unfortunately, there was one major side effect of the serum and that was the serum also transformed him into a giant lizard.

Over the years, Connors had attempted to cure himself of becoming the Lizard, with varying degrees of success. The cure that Peter had discovered was only temporary. Usually, stress or some chemical reaction would trigger another transformation. Another temporary cure would be administered and then, inevitably the cycle would repeat itself. The battle with the Lizard had taken its toll over Connors over time, but at the moment, he appeared to be in control. For now, he seemed to be Dr. Curt Connors, the same brilliant professor that Peter had been lab assistant to all those years ago. Although, Peter noticed, he seemed definitely tense and nervous. Of course, Peter reasoned, that could be due to the fact that he had an escaped fugitive in his basement.

"How's it look, doctor?" Peter said, giving a chuckle that caused him to gasp a bit in pain.

"You were in pretty bad shape when you arrived here,." Connors replied, "I've done the best I can with medical supplies from the lab, but you really ought to be in a hospital."

Peter shook his head as he went to go slip his shirt back on, effectively ending the examination as he winced, "I'll be fine. Dr. Connors. You know I can't go to a hospital right now."

Dr. Connors pulled a chair up to next to the couch as he gave a rueful smile, "I know that, Peter. There are a lot of things that I don't know though. I only know what I've read in the papers and seen on television."

"I was on television?" Peter asked with surprise.

"Of course," said Dr. Connors, "You even made the front page of the Bugle." as he picked the paper up off the floor, dropping it into Peter's lap as he unfolded it, looking over the front page which was dominated by two major stories. The first was concerning the Joker's appearance here in New York City. Following his robbery of the Bank of America, he had disappeared and despite the best efforts of the police, his whereabouts remained unknown. Peter shook his head angrily, knowing this was yet another problem he needed to deal with. Why was the Joker here anyway? This was a little out of his usual jurisdiction in Gotham City and the timing couldn't have been worse for the Joker to appear. Not that there was ever a good time for the Joker to arrive in New York but if there was ever a bad time, this would be it.

That of course brought him to the other issue at hand and at the moment, a far more pressing one. While the front page had a picture of the Joker plastered across it, there was a picture on the lower half of the page with investigators sifting through the wreckage of the warehouse which has burned down to the ground. Firefighters as well as police officers searched through the charred aftermath of the warehouse explosion and the subsequent fire. Even more alarming than the picture was the headline that accompanied the picture, reading: **Police Chase Ends In Tragedy.** In smaller subtype below the headline was a smaller headline and it read: **_Bugle Photographer Presumed Dead._**

****Peter didn't even bother hiding his shock and knew he wouldn't be able to if he tried. Peter gripped the paper tightly as he scanned over the article. The article reported the chase leading up to the warehouse stalemate with surprising accuracy, even though Peter wasn't quite sure how he'd managed to get shot. Peter felt his shoulder throb as a testimony and reminder to the events of last night as he flipped over to page 2 to continue the story. Peter was pleased to see that the fire hadn't spread too far to the surrounding buildings and that nobody had died in the fire. Nobody had died, of course, except for himself.

Peter took a few more minutes to survey the article as he finally folded it back, handing it back to Dr. Connors as he looked up, saying questioningly "So, everybody thinks I'm dead?"

Dr. Connors gave a bit of a grin that didn't match his eyes as he said, "Well, I have my doubts."

Suddenly, Peter had an image flash through his mind of Aunt May waking up to a phone call from a friend or neighbor, being informed that he was dead. Losing Uncle Ben nearly killed her and Peter couldn't even imagine what the thought that she had lost Peter would do to her. Pushing himself up a sitting position immediately as his eyes flickered around the room for a phone as Dr. Connors frowned, attempting to guide him back down.

"You need to rest, Peter." Dr. Connors said calmly yet forcefully, "You got shot last night, in case you didn't remember." Dr. Connors fixed him with a stern gaze that Peter matched with his eyes filled with equal intensity.

"I need to call my Aunt May." Peter stated. By way of explanation, his eyes flickered down towards the paper and Dr. Connors eyes followed his, nodding with obvious understanding but not slowing down his attempt to lay Peter back down .

"Well, I'll go get you a phone if you lay down." Dr. Connors said, pushing himself until he was standing over Peter, and then turned to walk upstairs. Gripping the railway of the stairs as he headed up to get the phone and upon reaching the top of the stairs, he turned around, looking at Peter.

"I'll be right back," Dr. Connors stated, "Don't move." With those words, he headed upstairs and emerged only moments later with a portable phone, making his way down the stairs. Peter remained prone upon the couch, watching Dr. Connors, clad in his familiar white lab coat, as he brought the phone over. It seemed like an eternity, but finally the plastic of the portable phone was in his hands and within seconds, he dialed the number to Aunt May's. Another eternity, which in reality of course was only seconds, as the phone rang until Aunt May's trembling voice came onto the line.

"Aunt May?" Peter said immediately, "It's me."

"Who is this?" Aunt May said, obviously startled and just as obviously in the middle of crying, "Peter?"

"I'm safe, Aunt May." Peter said, listening to Aunt May's trembling voice as she struggled for composure.

"But, the papers said that you were dead." Aunt May said softly, her voice starting to return to normal as Peter listened to her sniffling.

"You can't believe everything you read in the papers," Peter said, giving a soft chuckle as he winced in pain, then proceeded to tell Aunt May the course of events from last night, as well as everything he'd discovered so far. Aunt May listened to the story with rapt interest, gasping in all the right places until the moment he finally finished relating everything that had occurred since the moment he'd left her.

By the time he finished with how he had finally escaped the warehouse, but omitting the part where he had been shot and his current place of residence since Peter figured there was no point in worrying her any further. If Aunt May knew that he'd been shot, there was no telling how much fretting that would cause. Then again, she had already been told by the papers that he was dead so discovering that he had only been shot might have been a relief. Nor would probably the fact that he was staying at Dr. Connor's house overly worry her. Even though The Lizard had been a serious nemesis over the years, Aunt May had always considered him a very nice man and always referred to him as that "Nice Dr. Connors.". But, the more important factor to remember was that the police already suspected that he was in contact with Aunt May, so the less she knew the better. Not knowing where he currently was prevented her from being able to answer when she was asked. That was obviously an issue, which was only confirmed in the next few moments when they concluded his part of the story, but it turned out Aunt May had a story of her own .

"Thank God you're safe, Peter." Aunt May said, taking a moment to breathe in a huge sigh of relief, "But, Peter, there is something I need to tell you.

"What's that?" Peter asked, noticing the change in Aunt May's voice as she said those words.

"The police searched your apartment last night." Aunt May informed him softly.

It took Peter a second to realize the implications those words could hold. In the midst of all the chaos and insanity surrounding the events of the past day, Peter hadn't considered the increased scrutiny that would be placed on his life as Peter Parker. He took a sharp intake of breathe as immediately his thoughts flashed to the hidden section in his closet. It was there that his spare Spiderman costume was stored. What if the police had discovered….?

"Do they know?" Peter asked suddenly, breathing heavily as Dr. Connors looked at him with concern. Turning slightly away from him as Peter felt his heart pounding wildly, waiting for Aunt May's answer.

"No," Aunt May blurted out, "At least I don't think so."

Shaking his head as he felt dizzy all of a sudden, considering what a potential catastrophe this could turn out to be. If the police discovered the costume, web shooters and everything else, then there would only be one obvious conclusion to draw. The world would find out that Peter Parker is Spiderman.

"Aunt May," Peter said, attempting to keep his voice steady, "I have to go. I'll call you later, alright?"

"Just be careful, Peter." Aunt May said softly, "I love you."

"I love you too, Aunt May." Peter responded, then added, "Don't worry about me." Immediately after that, he clicked the phone off before the inevitable "I will" followed. At the end of the conversation, Peter knew what he had to do.

Peter got off the phone, as Dr. Connors walked over to him, his eyes filled with obvious worry, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Doc." Peter said, still contemplating this latest turn of events, "I just need to rest."

"That's understandable," Dr. Connors said, the frown remaining on his face, "You've been through a lot, Peter."

"Thank you for everything you've done so far," Peter said with a nod of appreciation, "I have one more favor to ask though."

But, before he could ask, the phone in his hand rang as Dr. Connors immediately picked up the phone and answered it. Whoever the voice was on the other line brought a frown to Dr. Connors face as he turned back towards Peter.

"I have to take this, Peter." Dr. Connors said with an apologetic smile, "I'll be right back." Dr. Connors headed upstairs for a moment, his words soft and low so as to be completely inaudible to Peter. Dr. Connors closed the upstairs door forcefully as Peter relaxed on the couch again.

When Dr. Connors returned a few minutes later, he found the room empty. The sheets lay in a heap on the floor as Dr. Connors noticed the open window. The frown on his face deepened as his fingers gripped the phone tightly, then dialed a number that he knew from memory.

Dr. Connors waited for a few seconds for the recipient of his phone call to finally pick up and with a deep sigh, Doctor Connors reported the voice on the other end of the line, "He's gone."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Spiderman sat atop the rooftop, taking a moment to reflect on what to do next. In less than a day, his entire life had been turned upside down. Basically, his life and the life of any superhero, depended on balance. In their lives existed a precarious balance between their secret identity and their superhero persona. Superheroes walked a fine line between saving the lives of innocent people and protecting the people they loved. The only way that he was able to be Spiderman and protect the people of New York City was because of the security in knowing that his secret identity remained unknown. It had to kept hidden not just from the general public but from those who would seek to harm the people he held dearest in his life. Peter shuddered to think what some in his own personal list of villains would do as retribution to Mary Jane or Aunt May.

But, in fact, that tenous balance had all but been shattered. The attack on Mary Jane could be completely unrelated to his life as Spiderman, but he couldn't shake the feeling that everything that had happenned so far was somehow connected. Besides, in his life of work as a superhero, it didn't pay to believe in coincidences.

The small glimmer of home that existed for him to maintain his way of life was to discover that his spare costume was still hidden behind the closet. That would ensure that his secret identity was still safe but finding that out could prove difficult. His apartment was now a crime scene, but considering that his apartment had already been searched, police presence should be light. Of course, there was only one way to find out.

At the same time he went to protect his secret, he couldn't forget the very reason that he kept it secret. Mary Jane lay in a hospital bed, fighting to live and it was this thought that strengthened his resolve. Mary Jane needed him right now more than ever, so he couldn't afford to let her down when she needed him most. Being Spiderman wouldn't be quite the same without those that he loved. So, first things first.

Mary Jane lay poisoned on a hospital bed, hooked up to tubes depending on them to keep her alive and with her attacker still remaing at large. Peter vowed to find her assailant, but just as important would be finding a cure for her. Just getting some measure of revenge against the coward that put her there in the hospital would be largely meaningless. Peter had discovered that with his Uncle Ben. Bringing his killer to justice was certainly satisfying, but what he wouldn't give to have Uncle Ben still around. There was no way he would lose Mary Jane. Not like this.

But, in order to find a cure, he would have to work with a sample of her blood. The hospital would have several such samples, but that didn't help him. It would be a lot easier to be Batman or some other superhero that had a good relationship with the police. Not a good relationship, necessarily, but certainly better than his own. The police would probably even give Batman a sample of the blood, but thanks to the Daily Bugle, he was vilified by the press and owing to that, often by the public as well. The hospital wouldn't exactly be forthcoming with blood samples for Spiderman or for Peter Parker, seeing as most of the world believed him to be dead. Even if they didn't think he was dead, the world saw him accused of attempting to murder his wife. The only real option, as Peter saw it, would be to get a blood sample of his own.

So, armed with a few things he had borrowed from Dr. Connors, he was heading off to visit his wife again. Standing to his feet, he extended his arm and shot out a web at a nearby building. Within seconds, he was swinging over the city towards Bellevue. It was another few minutes though before he found himself standing on the windowsill once again outside of Bellevue's most important patient. Gazing in at Mary Jane, he was able to watch as doctors shuffle in and out of the room. Peter found it satisfying to see his wife receive so much care and attention. Right now though, he needed the room empty. It was some time before that need was met. Ironically enough, the last two in the room were Dr. Stone and Nurse Kittiwake again. Listening to their conversation once again, it was painfully clear that they were no closer to even identifying what poison had been used, much less some form of an antidote. This convinced him more than ever that it was up to him and him alone to save his Mary Jane. Finally, they left and the room was empty, save for his wife lying on the hospital bed.

Spiderman then turned towards the window as he tried to grip the bottom of the window and push it upwards. His fingers dug in tight, feeling the window shake a bit, but it wouldn't budge. Not only was the window closed, but considering the weather, it was also likely frozen into place. It was a small mercy that the window wasn't also locked. No matter what though, he couldn't let this stop him. The muscles in his arm tensed up, the window shaking slightly and then finally being thrust upwards with a crash. Spiderman looked up to see whether anybody had heard or noticed the forced entry, but nobody was around. Cold air shot into the room and Spiderman slid into the room along with it.

With his good arm, he closed the window gently and he shot out a web with his arm to shut the door forcefully, shielding him from prying eyes. What a nightmare it would be to be spotted by a passing nurse or doctor. He could only imagine the type of headlines Jameson would come up with then. No sense in giving him more ammunition. With the door securely shut, he walked over to it and made sure the door was locked. Finally, he was able to be alone with his wife for the first time in a while.

Slowly, Spiderman pulled off his mask, looking over her now not as a superhero, but as a faithful husband. Giving a soft smile, he walked towards her as he saw the tubes connected to her body and he felt a wave of sadness rush over him. Fighting back tears, he walked towards her and ran his fingers through her hair. Leaning down over her, he pressed his lips softly against hers. Pulling himself back up now, he looked at her and in a voice that was almost inaudible, very nearly lost among the beeping of the heart monitor, said, "I'm sorry, MJ." Peter meant that too. It was up to him to protect the entire city, but above all, his own wife. For the next minute, to his comatose wife, he apologized for his failure to protect and be there for her. He knew that she couldn't hear a word of it, but Peter felt like he needed to apologize for his failure as a husband and as a superhero. It was only after a minute or two that he remembered his original purpose for coming here as he took a deep breathe. Confession was good for the soul, he told himself as he reached into his web pouch for a few things he had borrowed from Dr. Connors and his box of lab equipment.

First of all, his eyes flickered around the room slowly looking for equipment there to assist him in taking a blood sample from Mary Jane. First of all, he pulled a tourniquet from his web pouch. The most common place to find a vein is usually the area in front of the elbow, for which the scientific name escaped him. However, he did manage to remember not to place it too close to the vein, approximately two inches away and he was also very cautious not to pinch her fair skin, but tight enough for it to pull the skin taut and restrict blood flow so that the vein popped out.

Having located a vein, his eyes next settled upon a combined needle and valve system, which is a system most commonly being used in hospitals today. Resting upon a bedside table, the needle is attached to a valve, which is in turn screwed into an open-ended plastic cylinder. Slowly and carefully, he slid the needle in at a 40 degree angle, being careful to hit it at the proper angle to avoid the vein to either be transfixed or to roll out of the way. However, the needle plunged in with ease. Immediately, the blood was automatically drawn into the valve by way of a vaccum and from there, was transported into a tube that had previously been placed into the plastic cylinder. Peter watched in odd fascination to see the blood being sucked into the tube, albeit at a slightly slow pace. The tube filled up with blood as he looked over her face, but there was no change in expression. Peter brought one hand up, letting his fingers trail through her hair and he gave her a smile, despite the fact that he knew she couldn't see it.

Suddenly, Peter felt a buzzing sensation in the back of his head, followed by a sudden pounding at the door. Peter jumped in surprise and it took all of his concentration to keep from pulling the needle out. Frowning, Peter made sure the needle remained in place and continued to focus on the drawing of the blood as the pounding on the door only intensified. His spider sense flared now as the door handle jiggled and on the other side, some nurse or doctor was undoubtedly shocked to find the door locked. The door handle jiggled even harder as suddenly the tube was filled now with blood and with a quick blend of caution and speed, Peter took the tube from the cylinder. Immediately, the valve was sealed and would remain so until another tube was inserted. At almost the same moment, Peter heard the jingle of keys as he leaned down, giving his wife another brief kiss, holding her gently with one hand and using the other hand to tuck the syringe safely into the web pouch.

Then, sliding his mask on, he leaped towards the window. Gripping the window, he opened it quickly as the keys rattled in the lock. The window opened smoothly and then with catlike precision, he slid out of the window and onto the slippery windowsill. The window closed with a thud, Spiderman slid to the side and then, mere moments later, Nurse Kittiwake burst into the room. Frowning a bit, she was obviously surprised to discover nobody there. Casting furtive glances around the room, it didn't take her long to discover the needle still securely attached to her room. With a squeal of alarm, she immediately called for doctors.

Spiderman didn't hear any of this though, already swinging towards his next destination. Swinging over his apartment, he saw a police car driving away. Spiderman watched it turn the corner before he leaped forward, clinging onto the wall as he eased the window open. With a creak, the window opened slowly and he looked around, then entered into a room via the window for the second time in as many hours.

Peter's heart sank as he saw the apartment covered in yellow crime scene tape. Peter glanced towards the closet, noticing the door was closed and so obscuring whether the secret alcove had been discovered. But, Peter noticed the living room through the doorway and there was a square near the couch which had been completely cordoned off. Peter walked over to the square, looking at the spot where he was alleged to have attacked MJ. Whoever had attacked her had gained easy access to the apartment and thinking upon it, had probably done so effortlessly since he was posing as Peter. Who could've fooled MJ so completely that she had honestly believed it was Peter? Only one name came to mind and that was the Chameleon.

The Chameleon had not been seen in some time and currenly, his whereabouts were unknown. If he had indeed returned, this was quite the entrance. What didn't really fit though was the fact of the Chameleon utilizing his talents in an attack on Mary Jane. He had attacked Mary Jane before, but with far less successful results. But, for him to return now, why would he poison Mary Jane? Was he working for somebody? If so, whom? All of these questions had answers and it was becoming painfully clear that the only person who could answer all these questions was the Chameleon. If Chameleon thought he could hide from Spiderman; if he thought he could attack Mary Jane and get away with it, he was very, very wrong. The Chameleon had better hope that his camoflauge skills could hide him because if Spiderman found him, there was honestly no telling what Spiderman would do to get the answers he needed to help Mary Jane.

His eyes flashed with a mixture of anger and sadness, looking around the apartment, which had been throughly turned apart by the police, searching for information. The only thing that gave the apartment any semblance of normalcy was the Christmas tree in the corner. Its branches were a little disheveled, obviously had been searched too, though Peter couldn't imagine what evidence would be discovered in a Christmas tree. The presents underneath the tree were gone and Peter frowned to imagine them being unwrapped in a police laboratory somewhere. But, the lights were still around the tree and atop the tree, was a star that gave him a flicker of hope. Peter smiled slightly, looking around the apartment and took a deep breathe, heading towards the bedroom.

Peter searched for a moment before entering, looking for any evidence that the police might have overlooked, but finding nothing, he knew that it was time to finally face the fact that his secret might no longer be much of a secret anymore. Peter approached the closet with measured steps, growing more apprehensive with each step that brought him closer and closer. He discovered his palms were sweaty, pulling the clothes to the side as the hangers scraped over the steel rod that they hung from.

The secret alcove was closed, which allowed him to breathe a little easier as he pried the loose board open to get to the alcove. Peter was certain by now that his secret hadn't been discovered or else his apartment would be swarming with police. Gripping the door to the alcove, he pulled it open to find it empty. Almost like in a cartoon, Peter found himself doing a double take as his heart almost leaped out of his chest in shock. There was no spare Spiderman outfit inside and somewhere, somebody else had it in their possession. Out there, somebody not only possessed his spare Spiderman outfit but also the knowledge that he was Spiderman. Rocking back on his heels, he searched the accusing darkness for a hint of what had happened or in the hopes that he had made a mistake. But, no mistake had been made. The spare Spiderman costume and the sense of security that was tied to it had vanished into thin air.

* * *

It was around this same time that a large yellow manila envelope was being delivered during the lunch hour and was dropped onto the desk approximately ten minutes after it had been hand delivered to the mailroom. Tightly bound, it waited patiently for the recipient to return from lunch so that its contents could be discovered. Until then, it sat in a prominent position in the center of his desk, with no hint as to what lay inside besides a white stick-it note that read: Concerning Spiderman. This yellow manila envelope now resided on the desk of J. Jonah Jameson. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Spiderman recoiled in horror as he looked at the empty space. Hidden behind his closet was supposed to be the greatest secret of his career and never before had something so empty terrified him so much. There had been times where the bank account or their cupboards had been empty before, but that was nothing compared to the sinking feeling in his stomach. The feeling almost knocked him over, but he gripped the closet door to keep his balance. Fighting back the urge to vomit, he pushed himself to his feet, with his gaze never leaving that empty space behind his closet wall.

Tearing his gaze away now, however, he pushed himself away from the closet as he strolled over to the window on unsteady legs. Gripping the window to open it, he gasped in pain as his shoulder flared up. Peter had forgotten the wound that Dr. Connors had treated, but the recollection hit him like, well, a bullet. Nonetheless, he forced the window open as he leaned against the wall for a second. Somebody out there knew his secret.

There were a million questions that this presented, of course. His head was spinning with them and the cool air blew on his face, allowing him to think for a second. The first question, of course, had to be who held the secret now. Was it the police who had searched his apartment recently or the person who had attacked Mary Jane? The possibilities were numerous, but that only led to not only who held the secret but who held the decision of what to do with the secret. Peter knew that there were others out there in possession of the knowledge that he was Spiderman, but who had made the decision to keep it a secret. Perhaps this person would do the same.

Although the fact that they had taken his costume made that a dire possibility, but there were of course logical explanations why they had done that. Perhaps they had removed it so that it wouldn't be discovered by somebody who would expose his secret. The truth was that he had no idea who know or much less what they planned to do with it. But, the third question out of millions that ran through his head was what did this mean?

Peter could see it now – SPIDERMAN REVEALED: A DAILY BUGLE EXCLUSIVE! His picture would be plastered across the front page and ironically enough, probably one of his Spiderman photos along with it. Then, the whole world would know who he was. It'd be almost impossible to deny, but did it change anything? Well, of course, it changed everything. However, he couldn't let that change his purpose and his destiny. He had become Spiderman in order to make a difference and the possibility of the world knowing just who was out there making that difference couldn't keep him from performing his duty as a superhero.

He shook his head at the almost cliched word, superhero, not even sure what it meant right now. He certainly didn't feel much like either super or a hero. Here he was a fugitive from the law, with his wife lying in the hospital suffering because of who he was. Pounding his good arm on the wall in frustration, he was furious at whoever had done this to Mary Jane. Peter had made the decision to become Spiderman and Mary Jane had made the choice to become part of his life, but she didn't deserve to be laying in that hospital bed. It should be him. With a soft smile, he knew that if Mary Jane were here, then she wouldn't be hearing any of this.

"Peter," she would say in her soft, loving voice, "There's no point in feeling sorry for yourself. That doesn't get anything accomplished. I'm laying in a hospital bed. You're the only one who can get me out of there, but you are gonna have to stop this pity party you're having." Then, with that laugh that he fell in love with, she would give him a kiss. It was almost as if she was standing there, as if he could feel her breathe whispering in his hear, but Peter shook himself out of this reverie as he felt his gaze drawn away from the empty space and his eyes flickered across the web pouch where MJ's blood sample was stored.

Even if the world knew his secret, it couldn't stop him from making sure Mary Jane didn't remain trapped on that hospital bed. It was time to get this blood sample analyzed so that they could develop an antidote and there was nobody he trusted more at the moment than Dr. Curt Connors. He trusted Aunt May of course, but he doubted she would be much help in analyzing the blood sample. For what he needed, Dr. Connors fit the ticket perfectly and after last night, he had proved his trust.

Collecting his thoughts now, he slid out of the window and extending his arm once again, a webline shot out, catching the next building and closing the window, effectively putting this behind him for the moment. He recalled a quote that went something like "_God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change;the courage to change the things I can; and the wisdom to know the difference._" Somebody out there knew his secret, that he couldn't change and for the moment, he would have to accept that but the fact that Mary Jane was laying in that hospital bed was certainly something he could change and he hoped that he would continue to know the difference. He didn't know whether it would be God who granted him the difference, but somebody was going to have to. This was the thought that would carry him onwards towards Dr. Connors and the hope for an antidote.

* * *

J. Jonah returned from lunch in his usual fashion, shouting angry commands to various Bugle employees in between chomping his cigar. It was only after berating a copy editor for a major gaffe that would've cost the Bugle a great deal of money, which JJ viewed as a cardinal sin, that JJ finally slammed the door to his office.

If the Bugle was going to be run, it would have to be done efficiently and as cheaply as possible. This would of course have to be done without errors and this was difficult to do in this age where hard work was considered to be something of an age gone by. If you believed in it, then you were considered a relic. But, Jameson reminded himself that he was still in charge of this newspaper and as long as he was, then he would instill hard work into these employees. If not, then they'd be fired.

Jameson chuckled at the thought, straightening his tie slightly as he settled into his familiar chair, immediately shuffling through various news reports. Shortly, he would determine which ones would be worth putting in his newspaper for the evening edition but then his attention was drawn to a large yellow manila envelope laying on his desk. There was no clue to the contents inside, but only a stick-it note that read: Concerning Spiderman.

Frowning, he leaned over and stabbed his finger into the intercom as he demanded of his secretary, "There's a manila envelope on my desk! Where did it come from? Who brought it in?".

His secretary came in seconds later, so startled that she almost fell out of her chair as she looked at the envelope with obvious surprise, her eyes not registering any awareness of it as she shrugged her shoulders, "I have no idea, Mr. Jameson."

"Of course not," Jameson muttered as he waved dismissively with one hand, the other reaching for the envelope, "Get out of here now. I don't pay you for standing around!". Soon as the door closed, he flipped the envelope over and without an ounce of patience, poured the contents onto the desk.

With a sudden sharp intake of breathe, Jameson saw Spiderman's mask fall onto the table with a note that almost blew away as it fell onto the desk. The Spiderman mask gazed at him with those empty eye sockets, almost accusingly as Jameson reached out with his hand to catch it as it fluttered away.

Pulling it back down as he gripped the note, which was typed out in all capital letters. Short and to the point, the letter read: I KNOW WHO WEARS THIS MASK. I KNOW WHO SPIDERMAN IS. IF YOU WANT TO KNOW, CALL THIS NUMBER." A number was written underneath it by way of a signature. Other than that, the note was left mysteriously unsigned. His hands were trembling slightly as he let the note plummet down towards the desk, where it landed besides the Spiderman mask.

Jameson couldn't believe it. This morning at the Daily Bugle had been stressful with the death of Peter Parker, which J. Jonah Jameson still wasn't sure about. He remembered actually calling Peter's Aunt May to offer his condolences, which was one of the weirdest phone calls of his entire career.

After spending several minutes telling her what a wonderful photographer Peter had been, what he had brought to the office and how much he would be missed around here, Peter's Aunt May cut him off with a knowing, "Thank you Mr. Jameson for your kind words, but Peter's not dead." Jameson wasn't sure exactly what to say to that and she took his momentary silence to mean the conversation was over as Aunt May said, "Have a nice day, Mr. Jameson". Abruptly, she hung up the phone.

Jameson was left chomping on his cigar for a moment before he hung up the phone, returning it forcefully to his cradle as he leaned over, finger pressing the intercom as he then ordered his secretary to send some flowers to May Parker right away. It appeared that Aunt May was in denial, but death was never something to take easy. Robby and a few other staff members from the Daily Bugle had taken the loss of Parker especially hard, but Jameson didn't have time to grieve at the moment. He could grieve after the evening edition. He did miss Parker though.

Pressing his finger into the intercom once again, he interrogated his secretary over who had brought the envelope in. Once again, she claimed to have no idea.

"Never mind!" Jameson snapped, "Just find Robby and bring him into my office immediately!" Jameson then leaned back in his chair, tapping out his cigar with one hand as his eyes scanned over the note again and again, impatiently awaiting Robby's arrival. Somebody out there knew who Spiderman was and if he had anything to do with it, so would the whole world soon enough.

* * *

On the rear of Dr. Connors house, away from the suburban streets and the prying eyes, Peter knocked on the window of his house with one hand. In his other hand, he clutched the vial that contained Mary Jane's blood. Once again, he found himself seeking the aid of one of his oldest friends and foes. Pounding even harder, he hoped that Dr. Connors was home because he didn't have the faintest idea where he worked. 

Thankfully, Dr. Connors's face appeared in the window minutes later, a frown on his face as he pulled open the window. Peter scrambled inside as he said, "Thank you.", shivering a bit from the cold as he tried to brush off the snow from his shoes.

"What are you doing back here, Peter?" Curt asked as he closed the window, slamming shut with a thud.

"It's good to see you too, Doc." Peter responded with a grin, then keenly aware of the position that he was putting Dr. Connors in, he held up the blood vial by way of an answer,"I actually need a favor."

"Harboring a fugitive wasn't enough of a favor, huh?" Connors said with a chuckle, "You look cold. C'mon in for a cup of coffee, Parker." as he headed out of the back bedroom, indicating with a wave of his hand for Peter to follow him. Peter did, after taking a second to look around his bedroom. The nightstand had a picture of his deceased wife, Martha and his son, Billy. Peter blinked slightly, shaking his head as he headed towards the kitchen after Dr. Connors, hurrying his steps to catch up with him.

Dr. Connors was ready in the kitchen, pouring a steaming cup of coffee into a cup that was emblazoned with the logo, "World's Greatest Dad!" as he slid it across the counter towards Peter, who accepted it gratefully before sinking into a chair.

Taking a sip of his drink as he looked up at Connors, who settled into a chair across from him.

"How's the arm Parker?" Connors asked, with real concern evident in his voice.

Peter looked at it,wincing slightly as he set the vial carefully upon the table, "It's fine. Thanks for asking, Dr. Connors."

"Well, it'd be a lot better if you'd allowed me to have a better look before disappearing this morning, Peter." Dr. Connors said with a frown, "Where'd you go anyway?"

"You don't want to know," Peter said, as he slid the vial over towards Dr. Connors slowly.

"What's this?" Dr. Connors said, picking up the vial cautiously as he examined it carefully.

"It's a sample of Mary Jane's blood." Peter answered, leaning forward over the chair as he watched Dr. Connor's reaction.

"How did you..?" Connors said in surprise, then caught himself with a smile, "Let me guess. I don't want to know, right?"

"Right." Peter said with a nod.

"I was always a fast learner," Connors said, looking over at the blinds to make sure they were closed, then examined the vial once again, "Well, what exactly do you want me to do with it?"

"I believe Mary Jane has been poisoned." Peter said, taking another sip of coffee as he then continued, "I need your help in analyzing her blood and engineering an antidote. That's the favor I was talking about."

"Well, I can't guarantee you anything, Parker." Connors said, his eyes looking up from the vial to gaze up at Peter, "But, I do have a small lab that I've maintained over the years and I'll do my best to help."

"I really appreciate it, Dr. Connors." Peter said, his voice expressing his deep sincerity and appreciation for what Dr. Connors was doing. There weren't many people who would help him out in his current circumstances, despite their long standing connection.

"Well, like I said, I can't guarantee anything." Dr. Connors said as he took a last sip of his coffee, taking the cup over towards the sink, "The only thing I can guarantee is that I'll do my best to help out Mary Jane."

"Well, anything I can do to help?" Peter asked as he drained the last of his coffee, taking the cup over to the sink as well.

"Well, if anybody could help, it would be you, Peter…" said Dr. Connors said, heading back to the basement for a second when his voice was suddenly drained out by the blare of the television by a breaking news bulletin.

"Here you can see Rhino downtown and the rampage that this is causing. The police and fire department are both on hand to try to put out the blaze…" The screen was filled with scenes of a fire occuring in the background as the Rhino picked up a lampost, tearing it from the cement and swinging it into a police car to move it out of the way.

Peter knew that local law enforcement couldn't hope to subdue the Rhino as he frowned, shaking his head as he had to put off helping Dr. Connors for the moment.

"I'll be in touch Dr. Connors real soon." as Peter headed towards the back bedroom, calling down towards the basement, "Thanks again for your help."

"Peter.." Dr. Connors called out from the basement, voice filled with concern as his feet pounded their way up the stairs, "Where are you going? At least let me check your arm first."

But, Dr. Connors arrived back upstairs to discover that Peter had disapppeared once again, entering the back bedroom as he closed the window, noticing the footsteps in the snow, left once again to wonder where Peter had gone.

But, Dr. Connors headed downstairs to the basement once again as he carried the vial of Mary Jane's Blood, taking a piece of duct tape and a black permanent parker. Placing the duct tape over the vial, he writes the label Parker upon the duct tape. After that, he sets the vial next to another identical blood-filled vial also labeled Parker. Stepping back to admire the identical vials, his hand reaches out to grip the phone. Picking up the phone, he once again dials that same familiar number as Peter Parker, also known as Spiderman, heads off to fight the Rhino.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Spiderman stood atop the rooftop, gazing down for a moment at the destruction occurring below at the hands of the Rhino. Spiderman watched as police officers fired upon the Rhino, but the bullets instead bounced off of the Rhino's impervious hide, ricocheting off the hide as one of the police officers was forced to duck and avoid the bullet as it shot back towards him. Shaking his head, Spiderman's eyes swept over the path of destruction at the hands of the Rhino, as his eyes flickered over the overturned cars, the loud blaring of car alarms, the shouts of frightened bystanders, a fire hydrant shooting out water, and a building on fire, being reduced to cinders at a rapid pace. Frowning, Spiderman wondered exactly what to do. Rubbing his shoulder, he took a moment to reflect on exactly what he knew about the Rhino.

Originally from Russia, Rhino was an immigrant who had no real skills, but used his impressive size and strength to work as an enforcer for several varied criminal organizations. Aleksei Sytsevich was one day contacted by some agents from the Eastern bloc who offered him a vast amount of money if he would participate in an experiment. Desperate to bring the rest of his family over to America, Aleksei agreed. Throughout the experiment, he was forced to undergo intensive treatment, both chemical and radioactive. As a result, there was a super-strong polymer that bonded to his skin, but also increased his strength and speed to extreme levels. Here, Aleksei was given the code-name "Rhino".

Spiderman remembered encountering him for the first time, when the Rhino's first job was a contract to capture Colonel John Jameson for his military secrets. Spiderman was fortunate enough to defeat him that first time and at several other times throughout his career, but it was always the Rhino's lack of intelligence which swung the battle in his favor. Physically, the Rhino was one of Spiderman's strongest foes, standing around 6'5' and his weight estimated at 700 pounds. The Rhino possesses incredible strength, able to lift up to 90 tons and also has been gifted with superhuman speed, able to run at 100 miles per hour for short bursts. The latter gifts of strength and speed were what the Rhino employed at the moment, lowering his body as he charged forward. This was one of his favorite attacks, using his brute size to knock over a police car as he then used his horn to impale it as he lifted it into the air, hurling it at a helicopter that had arrived on site for assistance.

As the police car flew through the air towards the helicopter, it exploded in mid-air as the helicopter made a wild evasive maneuver, spinning a few times, seemingly about to crash before it managed to regain its balance. However, this was not before the rippling shock waves of the explosion sent one of the people riding in the helicopter toppling out towards the concrete. Spiderman knew he had to get involved now, as he'd known from the beginning as he shot out a webline. Webbing his way through the air, he weaves through the falling rubble, managing to shoot out another webline so that he can swing over the police officer. Spiderman then reaches down with one arm to snag the officer's collar, tugging him upwards and preventing him from splattering onto the concrete. Giving a yelp as his arm was almost tugged out of its socket again, Spiderman managed to set the police officer down safely onto the concrete. Wincing in pain, Spiderman accepted a shaken thank you from the police officer as he took a second to rub his shoulder. The Rhino appeared not to have noticed as the police officers still standing continued to fire bullets upon him, which annoyed him as much as bee stings. The Rhino's skin was basically impervious to assault by any type of conventional weaponry, and it would take more than just bullets to take the Rhino down.

Shooting out two lines of webbing, attaching them to the ankles of the Rhino as he used all of his strength to tug backwards, arching his back as he managed to catch the Rhino by surprise, knocking him off balance as he sent the Rhino toppling facefirst into the concrete. This did daze the Rhino for a second as he shook his head, pushing himself back to all fours with an angry shout, "Who did that?", turning his head to see the wallcrawler, "What are you doing here, webs?"

"Well, you can't expect to destroy a city block without me showing up, Rhino." Spiderman said, leaping up as he perched on a fire hydrant, which considering the chaos, was miraculously unharmed so far, "Now is that just your Rhino horn or are you happy to see me?"

Rhino frowned, shaking his head as he was confused, either from the joke or from the blow to his head, "Haven't you used that one before?"

"Well, I knew elephants never forgot!" said Spiderman as he then used a piece of falling rubble, shooting a webline to catch it as he sent it smashing down into the Rhino's head, which only served to infuriate him as Spiderman smirked, "Didn't know it worked for rhinos too."

Giving a furious cry of rage, the Rhino shot forward without warning, lowering his body as he charged forward, aiming to impale Spiderman on his horn as Spiderman leaped up out of the way as he sent webs across Rhino's eyes to blind him for a moment as he planned his next move. Just as Spiderman turned around, landing on his feet, he heard a piercing scream fill the air as his Spider sense blared wildly. Turning his head, Spiderman realized that the scream was coming from the burning building.

Spiderman's eyes widened even as the Rhino took a second to rip the webbing from his eyes. The Rhino spun around as his horn tore the water hydrant, water shooting through the air as it fell down like rain, soaking the Rhino and Spiderman both in a gentle drizzle as it poured down.

Spiderman leaped up as the Rhino charged forward, arms extending for Spiderman, obviously intending to catch him in a bear hug as his webs shot out towards the building to find the source of the screams. As Spiderman used his weblines to head up towards the building, which was ablaze, Spiderman winced at the intense heat of the flames.

Spiderman swung his way through a hole in the side of the building, some of the cinders stinging him slightly as below the police officers resumed their futile attacks on the Rhino.

"Please come save me and my baby!" the wailing screams continued, then was joined by a shout from somebody else, a male this time as Spiderman frowned, knowing there were at least three people in this building who were in danger and obviously even more outside with the Rhino on the loose. However, these civilians would die any second unless Spiderman saved them

Coughing from the smoke inhalation as Spiderman pushed through the burning building, lunging forward from a falling piece of timber, narrowly avoiding it as he called out, "Where are you?"

"I'm in here!" came the male voice again, as Spiderman leaped over a section of the floor falling through as he then kicked upon a door, finding a man dressed in a superintendents outfit trapped underneath a fallen piece of ceiling tile.

The man lay there, pushing weakly upon the ceiling tile as he couldn't seem to budge it, flames licking around the apartment around Spiderman's feet and around the trapped Superintendent, whose name tag read "Wade", a robust man with a thin gotee framing his face.

Panting out, coughing as well as his face was bright red, Wade grunted out, "I think I broke my leg."

Spiderman said calmly as possible, "Stay still!" as he leaned down, planting his feet as he heard that scream again, from the woman with the baby as he then pushed the ceiling tile off of him.

Spiderman heard the siren of fire engines as they finally arrived to help put out the fire, the frenzied shouts of rescue workers as they struggled to find a working fire hydrant. Spiderman picked up Superintendent Wade, taking special care with his broken leg as he rushed over to the window, blinking back a few tears as he coughed from the fumes.

Shooting out a webline from the window, he then used one hand to hold onto Wade with the other arm anchored by the webline, lowering him towards the ambulance that had also arrived. The sirens blared through the air as Spiderman looked at the fire department, with some members of the ambulance bringing over a stretcher to help Wade as they lowered him onto it.

One of the members of the ambulance brought him over an oxygen mask, designed to help him ward off the effects of smoke inhalation, waving off the offered oxygen mask as he shook his head.

Coughing heavily as he looked up at the building, "There's somebody still in there." as he then spun around, shooting out a webline to head back into the building, which continued to smolder as the flames incinerated the building.

"The building's about to fall down," one of the fire marshals shouted, gripping his arm to hold him back, "You can't go back in now!" An explosion occurred in one of the second floor windows of the apartment building, serving to reinforce his point.

But Spiderman only shook his head, tugging his arm free as he looked at the fire marshal, "It doesn't matter. I couldn't look myself in the mirror tomorrow if I let her die." as he pulled the webline taut, then used the webline to pull himself back up towards the building. Following the scream of the trapped woman, which was shockingly more faint than it was earlier, he swung himself into a window on the third floor.

Plunging into the building, he was greeted with a blitz of smoke and cinders, stinging his eyes again even underneath the mask as he winced, debris raining down from the ceiling as the screaming suddenly stopped, which seemed to coincide with Peter's heart stopping for a second. He could only hope he wasn't too late.

A working fire hydrant was finally located, cracked but otherwise in fine shape as the officers attached a hose to it, attempting to douse the inferno but not doing much good as Spiderman tried to push forward. The floor creaked underneath him as another explosion rocked the apartment building. Staggering to the side, he felt like he was almost suffocating underneath the mask.

The flames licked up all around him as he kicked in a door, calling out loudly, "Is anybody in here?", but knowing there would no answer as he brought his arm up against the flames, trying to cover his face from the smoke but finding it offered scant protection as he pushed through, but after a swift inspection of the room, there was nothing there.

Leaping out of the room, he saw ceiling tile about to fall down and cover the rest of the hallway as he shot up webs, using it to hold the ceiling up as he panted out, coughing as it shot waves of pain through his chest. Another slightly smaller explosion occurred, but it seemed that it almost caused the building to fall to one side, swaying as Spiderman was dizzy. Knowing that the webs wouldn't hold the ceiling forever as he shot forward, kicking in yet another door. But, nothing was in there either, although it was hard to tell from the smoke billowing out from the room.

The building shook and Spiderman knew he had enough time to search one more room before the building collapsed as flames seemed to surge up around him, his skin seeming to tingle underneath the suit as he almost dropped to a knee. Gripping the frames of the door though, he used his good shoulder to smash it in, stumbling forward as he looked around the room. Searching for somebody or anybody, he tried to wave away the billowing smoke as the floor seemed to creak with every step. Moving as swiftly as possible, the building appearing to tremble as he moved, trying to peer through the smoke as he moved through what must have been the living room. A quick search of the kitchen revealed nothing and Spiderman was running out of time.

Stumbling towards the door, he felt genuine panic running through his body. He refused to lose a mother and a child, but he didn't want to die either. Life and death weren't options that a Superhero should have to make, but fortunately, it looked like today wouldn't have to be when he would be forced to. In the closet, he could barely make out the bodies of a young woman and a child, clutched in her arms as he leaped through the air towards the closet. Upon landing, the floor almost fell through as his feet hit the singed carpet, but he tore open the door and tossed it on top of the bed.

His heart sank like a stone as he saw the both of them, entwined together, covered in soot as their eyes were closed, both apparently unconscious if not worse. Tucking them up in his arms as he pulled them both close, praying that it wasn't too late as he surged for the window, but his Spider sense suddenly flared with urgency, but with hardly enough warning as the floor collapsed beneath them.

Clutching the little boy with his bad shoulder, shouting as it creaked as if too much was being demanded of it and the mother with his other arm, he managed to invert his wrist and shot out a web as he relied on the webline to pull himself and his unconscious passengers through the window. Shooting forward as the rest of the floor collapsed beneath them, charred floorboards falling away, as Spiderman twisted his body slightly to absorb the impact of the window as it shattered. His body crashed into it and his other shoulder crashing across the window, scraping as he yelped in pain.

Clutching them tightly as he shot out another webline now, flames shooting out from the window as the building rocked on its foundations, using his webs to pull himself around the building. Seeing other people, covered in suit and suffering from various burns being treated down there by the ambulance as he wearily lowered himself down to the ground, depositing them softly to the ground, amid a few scattered applauses, cheers of approval and pats on the back.

Coughing heavily as he couldn't hardly breathe, unable to wave off the oxygen mask this time as he accepted it, sucking air as he pulled up his mask slightly. Droping to a knee as he gripped the side of the ambulance for support as he blinked a bit, watching them immediately work on the little boy and the mother. As the oxygen took its effect, he pushed himself to his feet. Through blurry eyes, he watched as the mother was revived, sitting up as she jacknifed in the air, sucking in air as she clutched her chest. The moment her eyes were able to focus, they searched frantically for her little boy, who unfortunately lay there next to her on the cement, still not moving.

Tears ran down her face as she shrieked out, coughing a bit in between each fo her words, "What's wrong with my baby? Why isn't he moving?" His heart sank like a stone as he watched them work frantically to revive the little boy.

His little body looked like a broken doll down there, laying limp on the ground as they administered CPR, the mother's sobs filling the air when suddenly the ground shuddered. The building started to collapse as flames enveloped the entire structure, the hoses still running on full blast but to no avail as the building seemed to implode. But, as the building crashed down, the little boy jerked slightly, coughing as his eyes fluttered open weakly.

"Simon!" the mother cried with relief as she slid forward, clutching the sandy-haired child in her arms, tears running down her ash-covered cheeks. Spiderman pulled his mask back down, unable to fight back a smile as it was moments like this that reminded him of why he had become a superhero.

But, then a helicopter flew overhead and reminded him of why he had been summoned down here in the first place. Eyes flickering around, it was painfully obvious the Rhino was no longer here. He was kind of hard to miss, but his eyes followed the helicopters as they headed downtown. That and the police sirens made that the likely destination to find the Rhino.

Stepping away from the ambulance workers as he extended his arm upwards, preparing to shoot out a webline towards the sky once again. Before he could though, the mother gazed up at him and tearfully said, "Thank you, Spiderman."

"Just your friendly neighborhood Spiderman, ma'am." Spiderman said with a solemn nod, unable to think of much as he once again shot up towards the air. The wind hit his face with a rush, coughing as his body was still sore, his Spider suit streaked with suit and singed, but determined as Rhino couldn't be allowed to get away with this. Spiderman didn't have a clue why he was here in the city, causing devastation and risking innocent lives, but he was certain to find out. It was another few moments before he swung underneath the helicopters and saw the Rhino tearing through the streets.

Taking a second as he dropped onto a rooftop, watching the officers follow the Rhino and in the second helicopter was a news camera, shaking his head as he knew the Daily Bugle would certainly be following this. What could be more important than chaos and destruction in the city? Suddenly as Rhino streaked down the street, police cars appeared at the end of the street, parking as they attempted to form some kind of roadblock. Shaking his head as Spiderman knew the futility of the gesture, swinging forward as Rhino lowered his head, his horn extended, preparing for the battering ram assault he used so often. The officers got out of their cars, firing at the Rhino, but once again, he appeared oblivious to them as if they were gnats. The officers finally had the good sense to dive out of the way as the Rhino took one of the police cars, letting it sail through the air. Spiderman sat perched upon a lamppost as he shot forward both hands, weblines extending forth as he caught the police car, then pulled it back down towards the Rhino as the police car crashed onto the Rhino, smashing him into the concrete.

This appeared to stop Rhino in his tracks for a moment as the helicopters maintained their hovering position overhead, Spiderman swinging down towards the police car and the momentarily immobile Rhino. It wasn't for long though as the police car is pushed off to the side and the Rhino pushes himself back up to his feet. Pushing himself on adrenaline now and the rage following the near death of innocent civilians as Spiderman swung through the air, using one hand to swing towards the Rhino and the other to shoot down, catching a manhole covering. Swinging it up like he would a frisbee, remembering the success of his "Captain America" maneuver earlier as he shot it towards the Rhino's face, smacking into it with a loud crack that send the Rhino stumbling backwards. Clutching his face as Spiderman leaped up, perching himself onto yet another lamp post as he then swung forward, knowing he couldn't give the Rhino even a second to recover.

Leaping up towards the top of a nearby building, approximately five stories tall, standing on top of it as the Rhino cleared his vision, looking around with rage as he shouted out, "Where are you, Spiderman?".

By way of an answer, Spiderman used both hands to fire weblines, both of them catching Rhino by his ankles once as he tugged backwards, yanking him off of his feet. But, instead of letting him fall flat to his face, he continued to pull backwards as he lifted Rhino into the air. He heard the Rhino's yelps of surprise as he lifted Rhino through the air, not even bothering to stop until Rhino's body cracked into the wall. His muscles strained with holding 700 pounds of Rhino on the strength of two weblines, sweat dripping into his eyes slightly as he shook it out of his eyes. The Rhino cursed in surprise, upside down as Spiderman fired out a few more weblines, attaching various weblines to lampposts and adjacent buildings. After a few moments, Rhino was left suspended five stories in the air, blood rushing to his head as Spiderman was able to release the weblines as Rhino was practically caught in a web.

Eyes narrowing as Spiderman took a second, catching his breathe from the fire and the pursuit of the Rhino. The Rhino was a formidable adversary and it was never easy to capture him, but Spiderman didn't have the patience or energy for a prolonged fight with the Rhino today. Listening to the Rhino curse and demand his return back to the ground, both of which showed his limited intelligence as Spiderman lowered himself down next to the Rhino, but out of his reach as Rhino's arms flailed around.

Spiderman took a deep breathe, gazing at Rhino as he planted himself along the wall, but just as he started to speak, "You know you almost killed some people today Rhino….." when Rhino managed to reach up, his fingers clutching the webs that held him in place as he suddenly ripped them to the side. His 700 pound body held up by absolutely nothing now as he plummeted towards the ground, eyes widening in shock, seemingly just grasping the realization that by getting free he would be falling five stories to the ground headfirst.

Spiderman shot out two strands of webline, catching him by his ankles again but unable to slow his momentum this time as he crashed to the ground with a thud that echoed through the air, snow flying upwards as the cement cracked underneath where he landed. The shockwave was enough to cause a lampost to fall over as Spiderman lowered himself to the ground, frowning at Rhino, "Who are you working for? What were you doing in the middle of the day rampaging through the city?"

Laying there on his back, Rhino was clearly dazed from the fall as police officers arrived, immediately radioing for reinforcement as an armored truck pulled up. It took two officers to pull one of Rhino's arms back and Spiderman helped the officers by pulling the other arms back as they used a special pair of handcuffs as they started to read him his Miranda Rights. Spiderman couldn't help but shake his head, remembering how he had been in this position only hours before.

"Who are you working for, Rhino?" as Spiderman frowned, looking into Rhino's eyes as they pulled him into the armored truck, repeating the question as Rhino gazed at him in real terror. Spiderman gazed at him, almost feeling sorry for him, but surprised to see the fear in his eyes as Rhino shouted out, "I can't tell you, Spiderman! I don't know!" Sounding almost like a child as the armored car doors slammed shut with a loud thud, but not loud enough to cover up the sound of Rhino muttering, "They have my family."

Spiderman's eyes widened again, gazing at Rhino as he slumped into the back of the armored car in chains, "Who has your family, Rhino?". The Rhino though just looked back at him and wouldn't answer. Seconds later, he couldn't answer as the armored truck drove away, taking the Rhino back to the superhuman division at Rikers, the tires squealing in the snow the only answer Spiderman would get.

Spiderman pounded on the building wall in frustration, panting out as he tried to comprehend yet another turn of events. Somebody was holding the Rhino's family hostage in order to force him to comply with whatever instructions somebody was giving him. That didn't answer any questions, but instead raised a host of new questions. Questions such as who was Rhino's current employer, who was vicious enough to hold his family hostage, and what were Rhino's instructions?

Once again, however, his ruminations were interrupted by yet another problem. A number of police officers stood around, discussing their capture of the supervillian Rhino when their radios all seemed to squawk simultaneously, "10-42! Robbery in progress! All available officers report to the Bank of New York! The Joker has been sighted there immediately! Repeat! The Joker has been sighted at the Bank of New York!"

Spiderman went to swing up towards the rooftops when their radios squawked again, "10-42! Robbery in progress at the Bank of Manhattan! The suspect appears to be the Joker?" as the police officer reporting it let the last part trail off in obvious confusion. Spiderman's frown intensified as he also wondered how the Joker could possibly be in two places at once. The only possible way that the Joker could be robbing two places simultaneously is if one of them wasn't the Joker at all. If one of them was the Chameleon, it would be possible, But, which one?

"_Well, there's only one way to find out."_ Spiderman thought, then immediately shot towards the rooftops as he heated towards the Bank of Manhattan to check out the second Joker sighting. Snagging the corner of a building with webbing as he was filled with adrenaline once again, whipping himself through the air, in search of a Chameleon and hopefully an answer to the ever increasing series of questions that had started since his arrest.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

**The Daily Bugle**

Robbie strode into the office, looking flustered as he ran his hand through his black hair, mottled with white and gray while he looked at Jameson, "What do you need? I heard it was urgent!"

"Close the door, Robbie." Jameson said, chomping away on another cigar, with the remains of the first laying in an ashtray in the corner of his desk as he pushed the yellow manila envelope across the desk, "This is the biggest story the Bugle has ever worked on."

Robbie didn't immediately look at the envelope though as he looked up at Jameson, "Well, it had better be. Did you know the Rhino just broke into a local laboratory and then rampaged his way through the streets?"

Jameson shot up like a rocket, "Well, get Urich on it right away and call Parker for…" Jameson caught himself in mid-sentence, slapping the desk angrily. Robbie gazed at him compassionately, with Jameson quickly regaining his composure as he continued, "Put Tony on photos instead."

"That's not all, Jonah. The Joker has been sighted at two different locations," as Robbie leaned forward on the desk, "Police report him robbing both the Bank of New York and the Bank of Manhattan."

Jameson's eyes narrowed a bit, taking his cigar out of his mouth as he looked up, "The Joker is at two different locations? How is that possible?  
Robbie frowned, "I'm not sure. Do you want me to cover one of them?"

"No, Robbie." Jameson snapped, "What I want you to do is close the door, like I asked you to do when you came in!"

Robbie rolled his eyes, smiling as he was accustomed to Jameson's usual blustering nature, but nevertheless went over and closed the door. Turning back to Jonah as he stated, "The door is closed now. Now, who do you want me to assign to the Joker robberies?"

Jameson frowned, his mustache bristling and pacing around his office as he waved his cigar impatiently, "Send Mark Ewing over for reporting to the Bank of New York and Angela on photos."

Robbie nodded, noting it mentally as he added, "And the bank of Manhattan?"

"Send Maggie over there to get it all down and for photos send Cole Cooper!" Jameson said loudly, "Give 'em their instructions and then get right back in here! Right away!"

It took a little over five minutes before Robbie returned and by this time, J. Jonah Jameson's frustrations had only increased from before. However, as Robbie entered the office, it hardly showed. Jameson stood by his desk, eyes narrowing though, his cigar pressed firmly between his teeth but it was his eyes that alerted Robbie that something was up.

"So, what was so urgent?" Robbie asked, almost warily though as Jameson wore a smile that appeared almost triumphant.

Pointing down at the desk, his finger extended towards a yellow manila enveloped, a note and a Spiderman mask, Jameson said, "I already told you! This is the biggest story in the history of the Bugle."

Robbie didn't even bother answering to that bold statement, but sat down, picking up the mask and the note. His eyes flickered over it slowly, gripping the mask in one hand, his fingers curling tighter around it as he read the note several times. Robbie appeared to be even trembling a bit as he settled into the chair, setting both the mask and the note onto the desk.

"What exactly does this mean?" Robbie asked, leaning back into his chair as he fumbled through his pocket for his pipe, remembering he left it in his office, gazing up at Jameson.

Jameson had a smug smile across his face, leaning back in his chair as he kicked his feet up on the desk, one hand folded behind his head with the other tapping out the cigar in the ashtray.

"Well, I'm surprised you have to ask, Robbie!" Jameson said, taking a puff from his cigar as his eyes twinkled in triumph, "It means the end of that web-slinging menace. All of his vigilante activities are going to come to an end once we know who he is!"

Robbie leaned forward as he looked Jameson right in the eye, "I've told you before and I will tell you again, Spiderman is not a menace!"

"Then, why does he wear a mask?" Jameson said, eyes narrowing, "Why doesn't he show his face? He has to run around in pajamas? He probably causes most of the problems that he allegedly solves!"

"He stopped the Rhino this afternoon!" Robbie said, clearly exasperated even though he had heard Jameson's anti-Spiderman rhetoric countless times before, "He has saved this city time and time again. He's a hero!"

"He most certainly is not a hero! He's a mentally unbalanced fruitcake!" Jameson snarled, chomping on his cigar as he settled back in his chair, removing his feet from the desk, "He needs to be unmasked so that the public knows what they're dealing with!"

Robbie almost stood up, frustrated, but knowing the futility of convincing Jameson that Spiderman wasn't a menace as he leaned forward in his chair across the desk, "We don't even know who we're dealing with. You don't trust Spiderman wearing a mask, then why are we trusting somebody we don't even know?"

"Listen, Robbie, I wanted you here so that you could once and for all find out who this vigilante is!" Jameson said, his mustache bristling now, "Not so that you could rain down on my parade. We'll find out who this person is in just a second and then, we can find out who that wall-crawling freak is!"

Leaning forwardas he snatched up the paper, even though the number was etched in his brain, snatching up the phone as he looked up at Robertson who had leaned back in his chair, resigned to the fact that there was no convincing Jameson not to find out who Spiderman was.

Jameson shook his head, frowning a bit as he held the phone in one hand, placing the cigarette onto the ashtray, saying loudly, "You're always defending Spiderman. He's probably some kind of fugitive from a psych ward somewhere, Robbie!" It was with this proclamation that he began to dial the number written on the note – the number that would lead him to the secret identity of Spiderman.

* * *

**Riker's Prison**

The drab prison cell was occupied by just two people, both of whom sat in silence. The first person was the lawyer, who sat in the steel chair and shivered. Not just from the cold that he had come in from just a few minutes earlier, but from the unflinching gaze of his client who sat across from him. The prisoner sat there in his own steel chair, hands folded across the desk as his eyes glared across the table at his lawyer. It was moments like that made him wonder why he had ever taken this client on in the first place. There was no chance of appeal, no chance that his client would be out on parole or in all likelihood, that his client would ever see the light of a courtroom again. But, then again, his client paid well and that was why he was sitting here in the holding cell, with only a table separating them.

"Why hasn't he called yet?" the prisoner demanded, almost petulantly.

This left Thomas Gill, graduate from Brooklyn Law School, at a loss for words. His client was expecting a phone call that he deemed important and he had no idea why the phone call had yet to occur. Seeing as he didn't know the caller, the reason for the call or why it was so important, he couldn't offer any excuses for why the call wasn't completed. Not that he would offer any excuses. His client had repeatedly made it clear that he found excuses intolerable. Just as he started to open his mouth to say something completely intolerable, however, he was granted a reprieve as the phone rang loudly.

His client reached across the table to the phone stationed in the middle of the table before it finished ringing for the first time, snatching it up as he didn't even bother greeting the caller, but instead began with, "Did he get what we needed?"

"I'm afraid not." the caller responded, "Spiderman interfered…again."

The prisoner slapped the table in frustration, "We needed that chemical. Rhino couldn't retrieve it?"

"It would appear that they moved it." the caller stated, "I'm already working to locate it, but Rhino was unable to retrieve it and was captured by Spiderman. In fact, he'll be coming to join you shortly."

"I told you Rhino should not have been used in the first place." said the prisoner, "But, it's not a problem. He doesn't know anything."

"What do we do with his family?" the caller inquired calmly.

"Keep them for now." the prisoner answered, "They may prove useful in the future."

"As you wish" the caller stated, "I will locate the chemical right away for retrieval."

"Make sure you do." the prisoner stated, adding with a smirk "Once we have our hands on it, it'll be the last time Spiderman ever interferes."

"On that note," the caller on the other end of the line stated, "I have somebody calling. It's him."

"Call me tomorrow to keep me updated." the prisoner stated, then without another word, hung up the phone and set the receiver back into its cradle, then walked over to the door.

"Guard, I'd like to return to my cell." the prisoner stated, then gazing over at Thomas Gill, stating coolly, "That's all for today. Be here at the same time tomorrow."

Thomas Gill nodded and then found himself shivering again as he rose from his seat, clenching his briefcase tightly. The shivering was irrepressible, his hand twitching nervously as the prisoner returned to his cell as he shook his head at what he had just heard. The enmity between his client and Spiderman was well known, but just exactly how did his client plan on removing Spiderman once and for all? He didn't know and for that matter, didn't want to know.

* * *

**Bank of Manhattan**

Just like the lawyer, Spiderman remained ignorant of the master plan, but not blissfully so. Instead, he waited on a rooftop across from the bank, assessing a plan of action to determine first of all how to stop the Joker and second of all, whether this was, in fact, the Joker.

The police surrounding the bank had no idea who they were dealing, but they took every precaution with numerous officers circling the bank. Guns outstretched as they were better prepared than last time as most of them wore gas masks, except for a few standing over by a truck filled with weapons planning strategy for an assault on the bank.

One of the officers stood with a bull-horn, dutifully ordering the Joker to surrender, although he knew and so did everybody else there that the Joker had no intentions to surrender.

Nevertheless, he stood there, shouting out "We have you surrounded. Please come out with your hands up." The police did have this place surrounded completely, with officers ringing the building and across the street, stationed on nearby rooftops were snipers. They were taking no chances this time on the Joker escaping.

Spiderman frowned a bit, wondering just how the Joker did plan to escape this time. This place was surrounded and with the gas masks, his Joker gas wouldn't work. But, the Joker hadn't come this far for lack of creativity or insanity. Spiderman had to be prepared, though it was certainly hard to prepare for somebody who was clearly insane and insanity made it far more difficult to have any idea what to prepare for.

This was proved seconds later. The bank doors opened as several of the Joker's thugs emerged. Two of them held the door open as the other two carried a Christmas tree, but all four of them were singing a Christmas carol loud and clear. Spiderman, standing on the rooftop, strained to hear what it was but after a few seconds, he determined it was the tune of "Santa Clause is Coming To Town", but with slightly distorted lyrics. Spiderman listened as the four thugs performed like an off-key barbershop quartet, singing loudly as they set up the Christmas tree, setting several presents underneath the tree as the cops watched in bemusement but with a great deal of caution as well.

"_O! You better watch out!_

_You better not cry._

_Better not pout, I'm telling you why._

_Jo-ker is coming to town._

_Jo-ker is coming to town." _

This was the tail end of the spirited performance from the four thugs, who finished singing despite the repeated orders from the police officers to "Stop and Desist." As they finished the last stanza of the song, as if on cue, the Joker appeared, loudly proclaiming, "Merry Christmas!" with his usual trademark, ghoulish grin upon his face. The Joker stood there, hands outstretched, as if waiting for applause. When of course no applause came, the Joker frowned for a second, flourishing a red-and-white striped cane as he walked forward. This was certainly the Joker.

Looking around, he finally said, "Bah Humbug!", releasing an eerie guffaw as he looked around, assessing the situation as Spiderman shook his head. Just how did the Joker intend to get out of this one? As if to accentuate the impossibility of escape, he saw the Snipers readying their rifles on the rooftops as the police officer in charge on this scene, "Joker! Surrender immediately! You are obviously surrounded! Place your hands above your head…"

The Joker laughed loudly, tapping his cane on the ground as he looked at the officers, "We're just delivering a Christmas tree here, but it seemed like they had enough green already here." Chuckling at his own joke before he continued, "So, we made it possible for them to have a Christmas tree!" He pointed towards the bags of money that two of his thugs had gone back in to retrieve, also setting them underneath the tree.

Spiderman had heard enough and also seen enough to confirm that this was indeed the Joker, shooting out a web-line as he prepared to shoot down. Just as he was about to then, one of the thugs brought out a woman from inside the bank. Sobbing as tears ran down her face, she was dressed in a bright red sweater with her hair in blonde pigtails, kicking as she strived to cover her face with her hands.

"Release the hostage right now!" the officer in charge demanded, "Place your hands behind your head and surrender!"

The Joker merely grinned, laughing wickedly as he waved his finger back and forth, "I can't put my hands behind my head. If I do, I'd drop this.", bringing his other hand from behind his back and revealing what looked like a joy buzzer in his hands. His index finger was already pressed into the button, the button depressed so that if the Joker was attacked, he would release his hold on the button. This wasn't lost on any of the police officers gathered, the Joker laughing wickedly as he continued, sauntering in front of the bank as he waved to the snipers and to Spiderman.

"And I'm sure you're all asking what this is?" as he waved the joybuzzer, "The answer is inside this present right here", pointing to a gift wrapped, ironically enough, in green wrapping adorned with Spiderman in various poses and topped with a bright red bow. The thugs thrust the sobbing bank-teller to her knees as she fumbled with the bow before she tugged it off, shredding the wrapping as it opened to reveal a sprig of mistletoe.

"Mistletoe is a Christmas tradition." the Joker said loudly, "When two people meet under the mistletoe, they have to kiss. It's a rule." The Joker laughed, then continued over the continued sobs of the bank teller and the indulgent chuckles of his fellow thugs, even as Spiderman waited for the Joker's explanation.

"Inside, we have three bank tellers, two vice presidents, one owner of the bank and a Partridge in a pear tree!" shouted the Joker in a sing song voice, laughing, "All of them underneath the mistletoe, ready for a kiss and a smile, courtesy of my own little brand of holiday cheer, all at the touch of a button!" Menacingly, his finger ran over the button.

By this, he left no doubt that the mistletoe contained his trademark Joker gas and also by this time, Spiderman had heard enough. From what he'd heard of the Joker, he would probably release the gas even if he had the chance to escape. Spiderman considered his options for a moment, listening to the Joker as he continued to outline his demands, seemingly unfazed by the sheer number of guns pointed at him. The Joker seemed to have made his position crystal clear and having completed yet another "transaction" at the bank, he radioed for his helicopter.

Spiderman felt absolutely helpless here. If he attempted to interfere, the Joker would press the button and release the gas. The hostages would die. The snipers seemed to have come to the same realization, conversing via headsets with their Captain, who was communicating that the owner of the bank was a close personal friend of the Mayor.

Something that wasn't an option though was continuing to stand on this rooftop as an impartial observer. It was time to act. Spiderman shot out a webline, gripping it with both his hands as he swung down in front of the Joker just as he finished speaking. If the Joker was surprised to see Spiderman here, he showed no signs of it. In fact, he greeted Spiderman like a long-lost friend with.

"Spiderman!" exclaimed the Joker said with a guffaw, "Merry Christmas! It's good to see you!" The Joker spoke exceptionally loudly as he struggled to make himself heard over the roar of helicopter blades. Looking up for a moment, a large purple helicopter descended from above.

"Merry Christmas to you too, Joker.." Spiderman said, frustrated but determined not to let the Joker escape, "Christmas is a time for giving though. How about you just release the hostages now? There's no way you're going to escape." Spiderman looked at the Joker evenly, who seemed to be enjoying every minute of this.

"I'm afraid not, webs." responded the Joker with a smile, waving his finger back and forth as if admonishing a child, "I have more work to do before the New Year."

Ignoring Spiderman for a second as he addressed the policemen, "It's been a pleasure seeing you all, but just a few more seconds and you can rescue the Mayor's golfing buddy."

"You're crazy!" Spiderman shouted over the roar of the helicopter, watching as it descended in the middle of the circle of police officers, snow flying up as the blades whirled around. The helicopter landed on the snow, settling down as two of the thugs began loading the bags of money into the very back.

"That's what they keep telling me!" the Joker said with a maniacal laugh, "My, but you have a talent for stating the obvious."

Once again turning to the police officers with a smirk, Joker grinned, "We'll be taking along this little minx for insurance! Bye Officers!" as one of the thugs withdrew a gun, pointing it at the head of the bank teller, her blonde pigtails bouncing as they pushed her into the helicopter.

The Joker gripped the door, about to step in as all at once there was a flurry of movement. The helicopter obscured him from the snipers, but that didn't stop the police officers from moving into action. Still wearing their gas masks, they stepped forward, pointing their guns as the barrels flashed underneath the sun.

"Stop, Joker!" the Captain shouted, "Don't move! Stop or we'll shoot!"

The Joker didn't even answer, just simply pressed the button as he shook his head, "You didn't play by the rules.." As if on command, one of the Joker's thugs pushed over the Christmas tree as the numerous ornaments bounced everywhere. It was too late before they realized they weren't simply ornaments, but explosives.

The first Christmas ornament landed underneath a police car, rolling to a stop before it exploded, as the police car shot up into the air, splinters of sidewalk and snow shooting up into the air. The police car tumbled sideways, windows shattering as Spiderman flipped backwards. The helicopter began lifting up into the air as the Joker laughed maniacally, waving as he called out, "Merry Christmas Eve everybody!"

Another explosion occurred underneath where Spiderman had been standing moments earlier, shooting out weblines towards two of the police officers, pulling them out of the way of the explosions. Spiderman looked around, seeing several of the police lying on the ground, bleeding. Explosions continued everywhere as Spiderman shot out webline after webline, catching several police officers and pulling them out of the way to safety. Around them, explosions occurred one after another with the Joker's laughter providing an eerie soundtrack.

The helicopter wobbled a bit unsteadily as the snipers took aim at it, firing at the blades and the windows, which appeared to be bulletproof, however. In the midst of the mayhem, Spiderman managed to shoot out a web tracer, which affixed itself to the bottom of the helicopter. Those officers who were still standing fired up at it, but the helicopter flew into the air, seemingly unscathed as the bullets richoted off the glass. Even as the Joker made his escape, an ornament caused yet another police car to flip up into the air, propelled into the air by the explosion as two police officers crashed back into the concrete, landing with a thud. Spiderman flipped forward, avoiding another explosion as his forearms extended, shooting another pair of weblines to pull them out of the way of the police car as it descended towards them. Both officers landed with a thud beside him and Spiderman listened to the police both groan, still alive while others around him were not so fortunate.

Suddenly Spiderman heard chuckling from inside the bank. It took him a second before he turned around, realizing the hostages were in there and undergoing influence of the Joker gas. In the midst of the explosions and chaos surrounding him, he had forgotten them. His eyes flickered down to a green Christmas ornament bouncing towards the entrance, as he shot out a webline to catch the ornament before it exploded, shooting it up into the air where it exploded harmlessly.

Leaping through the air, he picked up a gas mask from one of the fallen officers before he pushed himself through the doors and into the bank. Inside, he was greeted with three separate bushels of mistletoe hanging above three groups of hostages, bound by Christmas wreaths as they faced each other, close enough for a kiss. Instead of a kiss though, the air was filled with grotesque laughter as they rolled around the floor. Spiderman felt nauseated, but leaped forward into action nonetheless. Shooting out weblines, the webs attached themselves to two of the wreaths, tugging them away from the gas. Even with his strength, he found it difficult as they writhed upon the floors laughing wildly, their feet kicking along the floor. The laughter bounced off of the walls, ringing in his ears as he managed to pull two of them away from the gas. Hoping it wasn't too late, he swung forward to pick up the last pair of hostages, who convulsed and chortled on the floor.

The green gas spilled throughout the room as other police officers, wearing gas masks, gripped the hostages as they tugged the wreaths off, trying to control them as they shook uncontrollably on the floor. Snickering and shaking in spasms upon the floor, with all of their faces wearing that same sick smile. Spiderman pulled the wreaths off of who he recognized as the bank owner and one of the tellers, both chuckling weakly now and then stopped abruptly as the owner of the bank fell limp in his arms.

Spiderman knelt there, setting him gently onto the ground as he looked around, shocked at the devastation the Joker had caused during a simple bank robbery. Pushing himself off the floor, the cold causing him to shiver slightly as he stood by now and walked over to the door of the bank. Shattered glass littered the floor as it cracked beneath his feet, stumbling slightly as he looked around.

Several police cars lay on their sides, lit ablaze by the explosions as fire trucks arrived on the scene, oddly reminiscent of earlier today and police officers lay thrown about as if they were nothing, some of them dead while others were being loaded into an ambulance by rescue workers. Spiderman coughed a bit as he looked around, with the wail of sirens mixing with the screams of those hurt in the blasts and a few scattered bits of laughter from those suffering from the Joker gas. The smell of smoke, burnt flesh and other assorted smells filled the air. The combination made him almost gag, but he choked it back as he felt a tapping sensation on his arm.

Turning around, he saw a firefighter standing there. Shaking his head, he responded, still slightly shocked, "What do you need, officer?"

"This present here is addressed to you, Spiderman." as the officer held in his hands one of the wrapped presents from underneath the Christmas Tree. On top was a scribbled "To Spiderman!" in what looked like a child's scrawl. Angrily, Spiderman tore off the bow as the top flipped open. Spring-loaded, a pie shot forward into his face with a SPLAT sound as pie dripped off of his face. He could almost hear the Joker's laughter as he dropped the box, wiping the pie from his face, which seemed like a bitter exclamation point on the carnage and ruin which surrounded him.

_"Everything was a joke to him, wasn't it?" _ Spiderman thought angrily as he wiped the last of the whip cream off of his face. But, if Spiderman caught up with him, there wouldn't be any laughter going on. Hate was a strong word and he used it rarely. But, it seemed entirely appropriate here.

"Do you want me to take a look at that?" somebody asked as Spiderman shook his head, looking down at his arm which was bleeding. In the midst of the confusion with the explosions, a piece of debris or a stray bullet must have cut him on his arm. He hadn't even noticed and by this point, he didn't even care. A cut on the arm was nothing compared to what many people had suffered here today. Spiderman looked around, with order being restored by various rescue workers, and felt like crying. Even though it was Christmas Eve, he'd never felt less cheerful.

The Joker had escaped and by this time, the Chameleon probably had too. Spiderman shot up a webline towards the rooftop, swinging above the jets of water putting out blazes, above the ambulances which were racing towards the hospital and above the massacre down below towards the Bank of New York.

A slight beeping noise caught his attention though as he felt a flicker of hope, remembering the spider tracer he had managed to attach to the Joker's helicopter which had managed to remain affixed despite the chaos. Maybe somebody could be redeemed on this Christmas Eve as he watched the blinking dot head out of the city. Swinging towards the dot and the Joker, he wouldn't allow the Joker to escape this time.

Usually at this time, you would find carolers going door to door, singing songs of goodwill and Christmas cheer, but thanks to the Joker, these couldn't be heard. If they were there, they were lost among the wail of police and ambulance sirens. That didn't even mention the fact that his wife lay in a hospital bed as her attacker remained free.

This was no way to spend Christmas Eve...


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Spiderman swung over the rooftops, the breeze running through his face as he headed towards the dot on his beeper, representing the Joker. The beeping intensified with each new webline as he whipped around yet another corner, reaching the edges of the city as the beeping grew louder and more steady until it became a steady hum. This could barely be heard however over the roar of the helicopter blades. Finally, the Joker's helicopter appeared into view. Slightly scorched from the explosions and the windows slightly cracked from repeated bullets, the purple exterior of the helicopter still managed to shine underneath the fading sun. Christmas Eve was coming to an end, but maybe Spiderman could make it everyone's Christmas a little easier with the Joker in custody.

Spiderman swung behind the helicopter now, shooting a webline out towards an adjacent building, the web sticking to the building as he maneuvered down underneath the helicopter. Swinging underneath the helicopter, he shot another webline out to the bottom of the helicopter as he twisted his body. Using the weblines to propel himself upwards now as he landed on the side of the helicopter, using his good arm to tug the door upwards.

Inside, one of the thugs was piloting the helicopter as he spun around immediately as the door was open. The Joker sat there with the bank teller hostage, easily recognizable with her blonde pigtails. In between them was a bag of cash, which the Joker appeared to be counting casually, with a few bills fluttering out as the wind generated by the helicopter blades sucking it out of the open door. The bills fluttered through the Joker's fingertips as he turned around in surprise.

"Did you miss me?" Spiderman asked, hanging off of the side of the helicopter, as the Joker's eyes widened in surprise.

"What are you doing here, Spiderman?" the Joker asked with a grin, in the process of sniffing a $100 dollar bill, then stuffing it back into the open sack, "It's Christmas Eve. Don't you have a family to hang out with?"

Spiderman's blood boiled at the comment, eyes flashing unseen underneath the mask as he shot out a web,covering the Joker's mouth to avoid hearing any more of his comments or that sickening laughter. The Joker's hand shot up towards the flower up on top of his jacket, serving as some kind of lapel but also apparently doubling as a weapon as acid shot out of it. A thick stream of green liquid shot out as Spiderman spun to the side, avoiding it as it hit the side of the helicopter.

"_I'll have to be careful of that."_ Spiderman thought, with the acrid smell of the acid burning the helicopter wafted into the air.

The thug put the helicopter on autopilot now as he spun around, a gun extended towards Spiderman. Spiderman flipped backwards as he shot out a webline, pulling himself underneath the helicopter. Sticking underneath the helicopter, he took a second to listen to the spray of bullets firing out the open door where Spiderman had been only moments before. The steady, staccato stream of bullets finally ceased as Spiderman crawled upwards to see the thug's confused expression. This timed nicely with the Joker managing to remove the webs covering his mouth.

"Rocco you fool!" the Joker snarled, "Stop firing now! You're going to hit the helicopter! You take care of the piloting and I'll take care of the webslinger!" Rocco started to turn around when Spiderman shot up a web, catching the gun as he took it from his fingers with no resistance. Looking up at Rocco, it became clear that Rocco's expressions had only one setting – confused. Spiderman added another setting moments later, which was unconscious, as he shot another webline out to tug Rocco's forward into the seat. His face connected with the seat with a loud thud, his eyes rolling into the back of head as he fell backwards onto the control panel of the helicopter.

Not only did he hit the control panel though, his back also collided with the autopilot button as the helicopter descended downwards, plunging rapidly.

"Good help is so hard to find today, isn't it?" muttered the Joker angrily, leaping from his seat as he pushed Rocco off to the right. Then, gripping the controls of the helicopter tightly, he tugged them upwards sharply to prevent the plane from crashing onto the streets below.

The sudden dive caused Spiderman to shoot out a webline towards the nearest building, spinning around as he leaped onto the side of the building and his eyes observed the helicopter managing to pull itself upwards before it hit the ground. The nose of the helicopter rose upwards as it steadied itself, continuing on its course heading out of the city. Spiderman wouldn't allow it to reach that destination, however.

Spiderman swung underneath the helicopter again, avoiding the spinning blades as he swung in towards the helicopter, seeing the Joker set the helicopter back on course. Just after the autopilot button was pressed, Spiderman swung in from the side, his feet extended as he caught the Joker square in the side of the face. Both soles of his feet slammed into the Joker as he bounced off the side of the co-pilot's seat before he crashed into the backseat, slumping down. Spiderman jumped into the pilot's seat as shattered glass littered the floor, glaring at the Joker as he crouched in the seat.

"Give it up Joker!" Spiderman found himself shouting as they flew over the rooftops, wondering what else the Joker could have planned when he suddenly heard a squeal. Peering up from behind the seat was the blonde hair bank teller as Joker's gloved hand shot up, tugging her back onto the seat with a savage jerk. Holding her in place with one hand, his other hand shot into his purple jacket with lighting speed and within seconds, there was a gun placed against her temple. As the Joker settled back into the seat with his hostage in place, he resumed his wicked smile, his lip slightly bleeding from Spiderman's kick as a trickle of blood stained his usual pale white features. One of his gloved hands covered the bank teller's mouth now as she squealed muffled against it, yelping as her eyes widened. Her blonde pigtails bobbed as she shook her head, her bright blue eyes pleading as tears welled up in them, threatening to spill down her cheeks.

"Make another move and I'll blow her brains out, Spiderman!" said the Joker with a sinister grin, "I'll do it too. As fast as you seem to move, you can't move faster than a bullet, webs. So, get out before she loses a lot more than her two front teeth!"

Listening to the Joker chuckle for a second as Spiderman leaned back, looking around. They were nearing the edge of the city now as Spiderman heard police sirens down below, knowing that the time to make his move was now but he had to be careful not to endanger this bank teller, who appeared to be terrified. Not that Spiderman could blame her. Even after dealing with his share of clearly insane people throughout his career, Spiderman still found himself shivering a bit as he faced the Joker.

Faced with the possible death of yet another hostage, Spiderman raised his hands up in surrender, shifting a little bit towards the open door as he balanced on his feet, knowing that this would require almost perfect timing in order to work.

"I give up Joker!" Spiderman said, "I really should be getting off. This is my stop, but…", lowering his hands slightly.

"But what?" the Joker asked with a snarl, the muzzle of the gun pressing tightly to her temple.

"But not before I deck your halls!" as Spiderman moved quickly, his hand pressing the autopilot button to send it back to manual as the helicopter once again took a nose dive. Spiderman knew it was a weak joke, but to be honest, since Mary Jane had been hospitalized, he hadn't been feeling witty at all. Mary Jane would've been proud of the joke. Actually, she probably would've chuckled indulgently and rolled her eyes, but it felt good to be slightly witty again. There hadn't been many opportunities since this had started. The sudden switch to manual worked perfectly though.

Almost perfectly he should say.

Spiderman watched as the Joker fell out of his seat, losing his balance, toppling to the ground as he lost control of the hostage and his gun as well. Spiderman heard the gun fire as the Joker's finger pressed the trigger, and spent a second bracing for the bullet. The bullet veered wildly off course though, missing Spiderman completely. What it instead was the control panel, the bullet lodging itself inside as sparks shot from the control panel. His Spider sense flared, but it was hardly necessary as his sense of smell caught the smoke rising from the panel and his eyes caught the sparks flying from the broken panel.

Spiderman shot out a webline to catch the Joker across the chest, tugging him forward as he landed a haymaker across the Joker's jaw, feeling a burst of satisfaction as it landed with a crack. The Joker fell backwards onto the seat again, the "gun" flying out of his hands as it clattered to the streets below. The Joker's eyes fluttered a bit as he groaned out, but there was scant time to enjoy this as he then pressed the autopilot button again, but to no effect. The helicopter was headed for an irreversible collision with the ground, which approached faster with every second.

Spiderman leaped forward as he gripped the hostage around the waist, looking over at her for a second as he said, "Don't worry. I'll make sure were safe!" As he prepared to shoot out a webline though, there were two things that worried him. That was in addition to the helicopter plummeting towards the ground of course and the Joker woozily rising to his feet.

First of all, he noticed that the blonde-haired bank teller appeared more enraged than relieved to have Spiderman here to save her. His Spider sense flared wildly, but he wasn't sure why until a second later, which brings us to the second thing. That was when her hand rose up to a lapel that she wore near her collar, which was in the shape of a Smiley face.

"How dare you hurt my puddin'!" she squealed in outrage as a red gas suddenly shot from the lapel. Instantly, Spiderman's head felt dizzy as he released the bank teller, who no longer appeared to be a bank teller at all. If she was, then she had a severe case of Stockholm syndrome. Spiderman leaned against the side of the helicopter, his arms feeling very heavy as he attempted to shoot out a webline. His fingers wouldn't respond though as he swayed out the door of the helicopter, struggling to keep his eyes focused as they fluttered weakly. Seconds later, he felt the sole of her foot crash into his chest as he went flying from the helicopter.

"I got him Mr. J!" the bank teller squealed, walking over to help the Joker up. Spiderman crashed onto a rooftop with a thud, sinking into the snow as his eyes started to close, his body unable to move though. Laying there in the snow as he fell limp, his body shaking once from whatever she had sprayed him with, he didn't feel worried at all though. Instead, he felt like laughing.

* * *

**The Daily Bugle**

"Mr. Jameson I presume?" said the voice on the other end of the line, which appeared to be altered by computer as Jameson sat up straight at his desk.

"Who is this?" Jameson demanded, sitting up straight in his chair, bringing one of his hands over to press the speakerphone button so that Robbie could listen as well.

"Who I am isn't important, Mr. Jameson." the voice responded in a lecturing tone, "What is important is what I know and judging by the fact that you called, you think it's important too."

"If you know who Spiderman is, then of course I want to know." Jameson said loudly, taking another puff of his cigar.

"The question is then are you willing to pay?" the voice said coldly.

"How much are we talking about?" Jameson asked, taking an even more vested interest in the conversation now if that were possible. Jameson was always concerned where money was involved.

"Mr. Jameson…" as suddenly the intercom buzzed, his secretary's voice emanating from the speaker.

"I thought I told you no interruptions!" Jameson shouted, cutting her off as his finger pressed into the intercom with no small amount of frustration.

"I just thought you'd like to know that…" his secretary continued, but Jameson didn't wait for her to finish. Instead, he turned off the intercom completely.

"Perhaps you're a little too busy at the moment." the voice said curtly, "Perhaps it's inconvenient for us to call and discuss business with you."

"Not at all!" Jameson stated emphatically, "I was just asking how much you want for this information on Spiderman."

"The current asking price is $500, 000." the voice said clearly, "That's half a million dollars."

Jameson sucked in a deep breathe, eyes widening as he leaned backwards again, taking an especially long puff on his cigar before he answered, "Just where do you think we're supposed to get that kind of money?"

"We're aware of the amount of money we have in your own personal account." the voice said coolly, "We're also aware of how much the Bugle has in emergency funds. Half a million is not out of the question."

Robbie started to speak, but Jameson waved him off.

"It's pretty clear that you've done your homework. You would make a pretty good reporter.," Jameson stated with a chuckle, "But, if you think I'm going to give half a million dollars to somebody I don't know and without any more definitive proof than Spiderman's mask, then you're crazy."

"Well, I don't want to waste your time talking to a crazy person, Mr. Jameson." the voice said, "So, I'll say this. I have definite proof of who Spiderman is and if you provide the money, I'll provide the proof."

"When are we going to see this proof?" Jameson asked, "For that matter, when are we going to meet you? For something of this magnitude, I want more than just an anonymous source."

"All in due time, Mr. Jameson." the voice answered, "It's Christmas Eve. Go enjoy it with your family. I'll call you soon to arrange for payment and also the delivery of the evidence regarding Spiderman's identity. Merry Christmas, Mr. Jameson."

"Wait!" Jameson shouted into the phone, "Can't you at least give me a hint or anything?"

"All I'll say is that he'd fit right in at the Daily Bugle." the caller responded mysteriously and then there was nothing left - just a dial tone. Jameson slumped back into his seat, holding the telephone in his hand as he pressed it back into the receiver with a thud.

"What in the world does that mean?" Jameson demanded with a confused expression on his face as one eyebrow rose quizzically. Sitting back into his chair, he took another puff of his cigar before Robbie immediately began giving his analysis.

* * *

**New York City Rooftop**

Spiderman lay on the rooftop, his eyes struggling to open as he tried to move in the slush. He had no idea how long it had been since that crazed blonde haired had sprayed him with some unknown gas and then kicked him out of the helicopter. Managing to turn slightly to the side as he looked at his watch, but found that the face on his watch had cracked and stopped when he hit the rooftop. Well, hopefully when Mary Jane and him got to celebrate Christmas, she'd get him a new watch.

Trying to push his way up to a sitting position, he felt as if the cold had worked its way into his very bones. He sneezed, his eyes flickering up to the stars overhead, the only indication of the time. Shaking his head in frustration as he sneezed again loudly, pushing him up as he was shivering wildly. His knees trembled as he stumbled over to the edge of the rooftop. Almost slipping on the rooftop, he managed to sit on the very edge. Rubbing his hands along his chest, the friction started to warm his chest, contemplating the events of yet another day. He couldn't afford to get a cold now, but then again, there were a lot of things his bank account didn't allow. There was nothing he could do about it though.

Seemingly, there was also nothing he could do to stop the Joker. On two occasions now, the Joker had robbed banks within New York City and on two occasions now, he had been able to either prevent them or stop the Joker from escaping again. There was no telling what the Joker would do with all the money from both bank robberies, but it was clear what he had done already. Numerous police officers wouldn't be home on Christmas night.

Spiderman was finally able to breathe normally as he coughed a bit, sneezing again as he sat there on the edge of the rooftop, bringing his hands away from his chest as he held his head in his hands. He felt like he'd failed everybody. It was Christmas Eve and the man responsible for keeping the city safe couldn't keep anybody safe, not even his wife.

Then again, it was Christmas Eve and sitting on a rooftop alone blinking back tears wasn't the way he wanted to spend it. But, what he wanted wasn't going to happen. A Christmas Evening spent at home, cuddling together watching "It's A Wonderful Life" simply wasn't in the cards this year. In order to salvage anything from Christmas this year, it would have to be found at the Connors house.

Once again, swinging through the city, he swung over the city. The wind whipped through the air, glancing through building windows to see parents working on late night presents for their kids, illuminated by the television screens showing various Christmas specials. Below him, police cars drove through on rounds, hearing a siren or two to break up an attempted mugging and answering a domestic disturbance call. The police were able to handle both of them with relatively few problems, something Spiderman was grateful for. Exhausted after laying in the snow for so long after the Joker's twisted girlfriend attacked him, it was all he could do to hold onto the webbing as he shot out webline after webline to bring himself closer to the Connors household.

He can't believe he hadn't recognized the blonde bank teller as the Joker's accomplice, who he was pretty sure was called Harlequin. Of course, he hadn't been able to tell very well as she had been sobbing with her head in her hands most of the time, but he should've known better. Next time, he'd be careful not to underestimate the Joker or anybody associated with him. It was a hard lesson to learn though and certainly a costly one.

Lowering himself near the Connor's house, he changed back out of his suit. Shivering a bit as he took a deep breathe, working his way into a set of clothing that he'd grabbed from his apartment earlier, something clean and refreshing as opposed to the same set of clothes that he'd been wearing for the past two days.

Trudging through the snow, he worked his way over to the back window again as he found it unlocked. Rotating his sore shoulder for a moment before he tugged the window open, sliding inside what had been his home away from home the past few days. Looking around for a second as he slid the window closed again softly, trying to be careful not to make a sound though as he tiptoed into the hallway.

Even if he had made a sound, it probably would've been lost among the television, which was playing rather loudly "It's A Wonderful Life" as Peter chuckled softly at the irony. Walking by the kitchen, his feet creaked softly on the ceramic tile as he saw Dr. Connors slumped into the seat, eyes closed as he was bathed in the television light. Leaning against the doorway that led into the living room, Peter gazed at the television screen.

The movie had finally reached the part where Jimmy Stewart realizes that one life can affect the world. Desperately, he begs for his existence to be returned just the way it was. Peter watched as he tearfully pleaded to "just get me back." More than ever, he could identify with George. If he could simply find a way to restore everything back to normal, he'd do it. Then with a gush of wind, he could return home to find MJ curled on the couch, waiting for him and tiredly demanding an explanation for his whereabouts.

His reverie was interrupted as Connors awoke, giving a bit of a yawn as his eyes opened, then focusing as they found Peter standing across the room in the dim light of the television. Startled, he almost fell out of the recliner with a slight shout, looking at Peter as he kicked off his blanket and pushed his way up to his feet.

"You scared the heck out of me there, Peter." Dr. Connors said with a frown, rubbing his eyes a bit to wake himself up as he emitted another loud yawn then asked, "You enjoying the movie?"

"Sorry about that, Dr. Connors." said Peter with a soft smile, his eyes flickering over to Dr. Connors and then back to the television screen as he responded, "Yeah. MJ and I watch it about every year."

"It was one of Martha's favorites too." Connors smiled, though his eyes were filled with a nostalgic sadness as he stepped into the kitchen, then changing the subject, "You look cold. Do you want some hot chocolate?"

Peter knew better than to discuss Martha as he tore his gaze away from the film, looking over at Dr. Connors with a sympathetic nod, "If you're offering, that'd be great."

Peter sank into a chair, looking around as he returned to watching the movie for a moment. Peter leaned against the wooden chair, his gaze intensely focused on the television screen as George runs down Main Street of Bedford Falls, shouting an enthusiastic hello to everything that he had detested before, such as the movie house and Bailey Building & Loan. Just as he was sending a spirited Christmas greeting to Mr. Potter, he heard the clatter of a glass mug settling on the table and he inhaled a whiff of hot chocolate.

Turning away from the television once more, he looked at Dr. Connors and for a moment, he felt his Spider-sense tingling in the back of his head. Looking at Dr. Connors sitting there dejected and tired in the chair, he couldn't think why. Looking around, he couldn't see any reason that would explain the sudden emergence of his Spider sense, but he couldn't simply ignore it. He would definitely be wary though.

After taking a sip of his hot chocolate, Dr. Connors stated, "I think I've got an antidote worked out, Peter."

The idea of a possible cure for Mary Jane's condition pushed the gentle throbbing of his Spider sense out of the picture completely as he leaned forward over the table.

"You really think you've got it worked out?" Peter asked, surprised at the progress that had been made.

"I worked on it basically all day," Dr. Connors responded, "I'm going to go over tomorrow morning to make a few adjustments, but I think I have an antidote."

"Thank you, Doc!" Peter exclaimed breathlessly, unable to really believe that as soon as tomorrow, Mary Jane could be cured.

Dr. Connors shook his head and smiled, "It's my Christmas present to you, Peter."

Peter leaned back into his chair, clutching his head for a moment as his head was spinning. At this moment, he was just as excited as George. If he didn't think he would be arrested, he would probably run down the streets too. Euphoria swept through him as he grinned, thinking about how he would have to probably get through tighter security to reach Mary Jane after his last visit, but it would all be worth it.

Once again though, his Spider sense buzzed as he looked over at Dr. Connors. Moments earlier, Dr. Connor's face had been lit up with a smile at the idea of giving Peter his Christmas gift of an antidote, but now his face was in deep concentration and his hands were shaking. Holding the hot chocolate in his hands as his hands shook uncontrollably, the hot chocolate jumping around in the mug. Hot chocolate splashed onto the floor and Peter's eyes widened as suddenly Connors lost control of the mug as it crashed onto the floor.

The mug shattered, glass fragments and hot chocolate spilling onto the floor as Dr. Connors sat up straight in his chair, his eyes sliding out of focus for a second before staring blankly at his hands, seemingly shocked not to discover his mug there and then seeing the shattered mug on the floor.

"Are you alright, Dr. Connors?" Peter asked with genuine concern, pushing himself up out of his chair with one hand, clutching his head slightly as the buzzing in his head only increased now.

Dr. Connors pushed himself to his feet, his hands continuing to shake slightly as he gazed around, then looked back at Peter, looking surprised as he stumbled backwards. The chair that he had just been sitting in toppled over and Peter had to lean forward, stepping over the broken glass as he gripped Dr. Connors forearm, preventing him from falling over it.

Dr. Connors gently brushed Peter's arm away as he regained his balance as Peter repeated the question, "Are you alright, Dr. Connors?"

Dr. Connors appeared to have finally heard the question as he gave one of his familiar smiles, chuckling as he looked at Peter, "Of course. I'm just tired."

Peter couldn't hide his skepticism as he asked, "Are you sure that's all that's wrong?"

"Christmas is usually a pretty hard time." Dr. Connors said as he stood there, running a hand through his hair, "I'm just going to get some sleep so I can finish up the antidote in the morning."

"You don't have to finish up the antidote first thing in the morning you know." Peter said, looking over at him worry, "It's Christmas. What about Billy?"

"Billy's busy this year." Dr. Connors answered with a shake of his head, "Don't worry about it, Peter. I want to get this antidote finished tomorrow morning."

"Okay, Doc." Peter said, frowning though as he watched Dr. Connors head back towards his bedroom, "If anything's wrong though, I'll help you out."

"Merry Christmas, Peter!" Dr. Connors called out with a smile, then disappearing into the bedroom, acting as if he hadn't heard the question.

"Merry Christmas to you too." Peter responded softly, looking down at the broken mug and hot chocolate running like a miniature river across the tile. It took him a few minutes to clean up the mess, making sure every piece of glass was cleared up from the tile and by the time he was done, it was if no spill had ever occurred.

What was a lot harder to remove though was the memory of Dr. Connors shaking in his chair, the look on his face and the image of the mug shattering upon the floor. It could just be a lack of sleep, the stress associated with the holiday season, but his Spider sense usually wasn't triggered by anything other than serious danger.

Tomorrow, however, everything would be fine. Dr. Connors could complete his work on the antidote and after he gave the antidote to Mary Jane, this nightmare could be over. She would be able to tell the police that it wasn't Peter that attacked her and maybe, just maybe, there could be a Merry Christmas after all.

Draining the last of his hot chocolate, he set the mug in the sink. The credits for the movie ran across the television screen, but ended as Peter shut it off. Flicking off the light in the kitchen as he headed down towards the basement, the stairs creaking with each step before Peter finally reached the bottom. Heading towards the couch, he felt rejuvenated by the hot chocolate but nevertheless, collapsed onto the couch.

"_And to all a good night…" _ was Peter's last thought was with his eyes closing shut, wrapping the blanket tight around him as he drifted off to sleep in the hopes of awakening to a Christmas with Mary Jane.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

Peter pulled the covers tightly around himself, clutching them as he slept peacefully on the couch. A light snoring sound began to rise while Peter shifted positions on the couch, the faint buzz rising to a louder crescendo before it came abruptly to an end. Peter rolled off the couch, landing with an echoing thud as he jerked awake, eyes fluttering open.

Peter laid there for a second, groaning and allowing his eyes to focus on the ceiling. Typically, his eyes were allowed to adjust after the fall by focusing on wife as she checked on him. That's if the loud thump of his body hitting the floor woke her up at al. However, more often than not, he could Mary Jane leaning over the bed, offering a helping hand along with a sultry yet sympathetic "Come on back to bed, tiger." Then, Peter would take his wife's hand, slip back under the covers and engage in a little snuggling before they both faded back into dreamland.

This morning, though, there was no helping hand. Instead, he kicked off the blanket, which had intertwined itself around his legs, and then he gripped the side of the couch in order to peel himself off the cold, cement floor. Rising to his feet, he knew of course wasn't the only thing that was different this Christmas.

First of all, the setting was drastically different. Instead of laying warm in his bed, he was waking up in the basement of one of his oldest villains, Dr. Curt Connors or as the world knew him, The Lizard. Instead of waking up next to his wife, he knew Mary Jane lay in a coma caused by poison and thought irreversible by doctors. But, thanks to Dr. Connors, there just might be a Christmas to be salvaged today after all. If Dr. Connors only had a successful antidote today, then this could be the best Christmas present ever to have Mary Jane back.

Speaking of presents, he recalled that the last of his Christmas presents had been collected by the police during his arrest. Peter shuddered to think of how the presents had probably been opened, searched through by the police, no doubt determined the jewelry to be harmless and now resided in an evidence locker within police headquarters. Once Mary Jane cleared him though, the presents could be returned and Peter was just imagining the look on her face as she opened the necklace when he heard a noise upstairs.

Shaken out of his reverie, he dashed upstairs. For a fleeting second as he reached the top of the stairs, his Spider Sense went off but it was gone quickly as it came. His eyes flickered around the room, searching for whatever could've caused the sound he had heard. But, there was nothing there.

The house was absolutely silent, save for his breathing and the bubbling of the coffee in the coffee maker, which had apparently been kindly made by Dr. Connors sometime this morning. Apparently a good night's sleep may hay have been all that Dr. Connors needed, although Peter was still disturbed by the image of the mug shattering on the floor. That was stamped in his memory, followed by the memory of an obviously shocked Dr. Connors staggering off to bed.

But, Peter was certain that no mugs would break this morning as he prepared himself a cup of coffee to wake up. Not that he really needed it, though. The prospect of having Mary Jane back today made it impossible to even consider going back to bed. Taking a sip of his coffee, his eyes caught a small piece of paper left on the countertop next to the coffee maker. On it, there was a scribbled note, strangely enough written in an almost unintelligible scrawl that was in contrast to Dr. Connor's usual handwriting.

"I guess Dr. Connors was in a hurry this morning," Peter thought, with a chuckle and then took a second to decipher the writing. After a few seconds though, he was able to read that it was the address of the laboratory where Dr. Connors was working hard on the antidote. As Spiderman, he would be able to swing there in just a few minutes.

Draining the last of the coffee, he set the cup in the sink and headed back towards the bedroom. Entering the room, he was pleasantly surprised to see the bed made and that Dr. Connors certainly had headed back to the laboratory, where Peter would be meeting him in a few minutes. Peter began to open up the familiar back window, sneaking out back so as to remain undetected. Not that he should have anything to worry about on a day like to day. On Christmas morning, people would either be sleeping in or sitting in front of the Christmas tree, fighting back yawns and surrounded by wrapping paper as they opened presents with their families. The chances of them watching outside for escaped fugitives slinking down the street were slim to none. But, of course, he hadn't made it this far by taking unnecessary chances.

Soon enough, he was swinging over the city, snowflakes falling down around him, while webline after webline brought him closer to the laboratory and hopefully closer to the end of the nightmare.

* * *

**The Home of J. Jonah Jameson**

One of those people surrounded by Christmas wrapping was J. Jonah Jameson. Sitting on the couch, he looked across at Marla as she fumbled with the wrapping on one of his gifts. Jameson was glad to enjoy Christmas with his wife, and even more glad to be able to give her fond memories of the holiday, even though he had few to draw on from his childhood.

His father, David Jameson, had been a highly decorated officer in the United States Army and a war veteran. Everybody in the community respected him as a hero, but what nobody in the community knew that David Jameson was also an abusive husband and father. It was early on that Jameson realized that heroes, real heroes, are far and few between. Even those people considered heroes couldn't be a hero every day. There were moments where David Jameson had been a good father, but these were outnumbered by moments of screaming insults and physical abuse.

Everybody has some heroic moments, but nobody can keep it up all the time. Take Spiderman, for example. Throughout his "crime fighting career", he had undoubtedly done some genuine good. But, often times, Jameson was convinced that he was responsible for many of the misdeeds that he claimed to solve. It all seemed like some kind of glorified publicity stunt. Spiderman had to have some kind of agenda, or else why would he wear a mask? What was he hiding? But, now he was close to finding out the man behind the mask. With a phone call, he would stand on the verge of finally learning Spiderman's secret identity.

Marla's squeal of surprise and obvious enjoyment at discovering the gift he had purchased brought his train of thoughts to a screeching halt. Clutching the box in one hand, she squeezed him tightly and planted a kiss on his cheek before snuggling in behind him.

"These are beautiful, honey," Marla said sweetly, "They must have cost a fortune."

'They' were a pair of diamond earrings which had indeed cost him quite a bit. He had, over the years, acquired a reputation for being cheap. First of all, he wasn't cheap at all, but merely efficient. There were too many idiots out there who were fine with wasting their money, but Jameson was not one of those. He would rather be considered cheap than a fool. But, when it came to his wife, he didn't mind being a little less efficient. And for his momentary lapse in financial efficiency, he was rewarded with a kiss.

Eagerly, Marla bounded over to the Christmas tree, pulling out a long, rectangular box wrapped in shiny, blue paper.

"Open it!" Marla exclaimed excitedly, depositing the box in his lap. Tugging off the bow, Jameson remembered seeing this same wrapping paper at the Daily Bugle at their Christmas Eve Party yesterday. Robbie had planned it without his knowledge, and it appeared worth it as the employees seemed to enjoy it. The party had been a success, the celebration offering a brief respite from covering the tragic events that had occurred over the past few days. It had been a low-key affair really, given how busy things were around the holiday season, but still there had been a gift exchange, beverage and even cake.

Jameson had left the party pretty early, but not before he found himself giving a toast. The toast was given to the excellent sales throughout the year, to the dedication of the Bugle employees and last but not least, the loss of a valued employee, Peter Parker.

Over the years, Peter Parker had proven to be one of the Bugle's best and most dependable photographers. Ever since that young man walked into his office, there had always been a bond of trust between them. If he could, he'd love to share his Aunt May's deluded theory that Peter was alive, but Jameson knew it was time to accept that Parker was dead.

Jameson had heard recently that Spiderman had been sighted near the warehouse explosion, which made Jameson boil with rage. If Jameson discovered that he had anything to do with Parker's death, Spiderman would pay worse than ever before. But, this was no time to think about such things. It was time, as the caller had suggested yesterday, to enjoy Christmas with his family. And so, with renewed vigor, he shredded the wrapping paper as Marla watched on.

**

* * *

Elsewhere In The City**

Christmas continued throughout the city, with Christmas joy appearing in places you wouldn't even think possible. Here was a seemingly abandoned warehouse, not unlike the one where Peter Parker allegedly met his end. This early in the morning, it was surprisingly deserted and quiet, with most of the prostitutes, drug dealers and gangsters all but gone. It would be nice to believe that these people were someplace enjoying Christmas, whether with one another or perhaps joyfully reunited with their families.

However, it seemed more likely that they knew the reputation of who lived in the warehouse at the current moment and wisely chose to avoid it. Hence, the silence, which was broken now with a loud squeal of "Time to wake up, puddin'! It's Christmas!"

Inside the warehouse, Harley Quinn was positively bouncing on the bed, eager to wake the Joker up. The Joker's response was less than enthusiastic, though, as he simply pushed her off the bed with a grunt.

Harley Quinn landed on the floor with a squeal and a thud, but remained undaunted as she sprang to her feet. When the Joker rolled over away from her, she pulled a noise-maker out and placing it close to his ear. After taking a deep breathe, she blew as hard as she could. The sound of the noisemaker reverberated in the air like a trumpet, ringing in the Joker's ear and providing the desired effect as he shot up like a rocket, clearly awake now. In one swift motion after waking, he cut off the bugle-like sound at both of its sources. One hand clamped around Harley Quinn's throat and the other hand crumpling the paper noisemaker. Tossing Harley down onto the bed with a snarl, he now dedicated himself to tearing up the noisemaker with both hands as he sprinkled the pieces in the air like confetti.

"What is the matter with you?" the Joker demanded as the last of the noisemaker fluttered down onto the purple sheets. If Harley Quinn was fazed at all by this display of anger and violence, she didn't display it for a second.

In fact, with a cough and a giggle, she sat up, "Absolutely nothin', Mr. J! I'm just so excited it's Christmas. Aren't you?"

"Of course I am, Harley!" said the Joker with a toothy grin, "You know how much I love Christmas, but I just figured we'd sleep in this morning since we've been working so hard. Robbing banks and murder isn't easy, you know." The Joker seemed to calm down a bit now, but still with the manic glint in his eyes.

"I know, pudding." Harley Quinn said with a pout, leaning up to give the Joker a sympathetic hug, "But since we're up, we could give each other our gifts, couldn't we?"

"All that killing wears me out, but I never get tired of it" said the Joker with a loud chuckle and then registering what Harley had said, "You got me a present, Harley?"

"Of course!" Harley said with an adoring grin, "There was no way I would let the Clown Prince of Crime, my pudding, not get a Christmas present! You got me a present too, didn't ya?"

"Of course!" said the Joker with a smile and a laugh, "How could I forget my sweet cupid of crime!"

Harley Quinn giggled at the name, then clapped her hands with excitement and antcipation as she squealed, "What'd ya get me? What'd ya get me?"

With a manner of seconds, with a grand flourish, the Joker produced a package in red wrapping with a black bow. Eagerly, Harley Quinn tore the package out of his hands and ripped apart the wrapping in a frenzy, the discarded bow falling to the side.

Once the present was opened, Harley found herself wearing a bemused look on her face and pulling a pair of tickets out from the package. Looking over them, she didn't find any writing on them and so she was forced to ask, "What are these, Mr. J?"

"These kiddo," Joker said as he put an arm around her shoulder, "are tickets to see the end of New York City."

"Really!" Harley said, doing her best to sound excited, "I was just kinda expecting something a little different with all the money we robbed from the banks lately."

These are tickets to a brand new year, Harley! A brand new world!" the Joker proclaimed, nearly crowing with excitement, "We're going to get the best seats in the house for armageddon, Harley!"

"Thanks, Mr J!" said Harley, giving him a big hug and wrapping him tight as the Joker squirmed slightly in her grasp.

"Besides," the Joker whispered with a conspiratorial grin, "The bank money is being spent on the other half of your Christmas present."

Harley's eyes widened in surprise as she smiled, "When do I get that?"

"New Years Harley!" answered the Joker with a sinister laugh, "It's gonna be the biggest New Year's celebration this town has ever seen!"

"Yay!" Harley shouted, leaning forward to tackle the Joker in a hug as the toppled to the floor, "Wait until you see what I got you!"

The Joker struggled to avoid her kisses and squirmed free of her hugs, but like a rapid pitbull, Harley Quinn hung on underneath the mistletoe she had hung earlier this morning. Those tickets fell to the side, with writing appearing on them with invisible ink as the first words began to appear, reading _Times Square_.

* * *

**Aunt May's House**

Aunt May stood in front of the Christmas tree that Peter and Mary Jane had helped set up in the corner during their visit a few weeks ago, her eyes gazing down at the small cluster of presents gathered at the bottom of the tree. On a typical Christmas morning, Peter and Mary Jane would be over to open up a few Christmas presents. Then, after an exchanging of gifts, she would have an excellent Christmas lunch prepared to help them celebrate the holiday.

But, obviously, this was not a typical Christmas. The oven was cold and instead of bustling through the kitchen, she stood here blinking back tears. The world assumed that Peter had attempted to kill his wife and also believed him dead. Mary Jane was in a coma, where the doctors had no real idea of what was wrong with her.

This was one of the worst Christmas seasons she had ever endured and probably the worst since that first Christmas after her husband Ben had passed away. But, at least, Peter had been here then. Right now, she had no idea where Peter was. No doubt, off as Spiderman, trying to do something about his situation and save Mary Jane.

For years, she had misunderstood Spiderman and his actions. Even after discovering Peter was Spiderman, it had taken her time to accept it all. But, once she had, she was so proud of Peter. That certainly didn't mean she didn't worry about Peter and in fact, she worried more than ever about his safety. Of course, she couldn't stop him from doing what was right.

Doing what was right, unfortunately, put him in opposition of people who were in the habit of doing wrong. That's what was happening now, but her whole life, Aunt May had firmly believed that good would always triumph over evil. Evil might win for a while, but in the end, good would overcome. Peter and by extension, Spiderman would win.

Looking over at the tree, she clutched the coffee cup tightly in her trembling hands, taking a sip of coffee before reaching out with one hand, gently touching a glass ornament prominently displayed on the tree. It was an ornament she and Ben had bought so many years ago, to celebrate the first Christmas Peter had enjoyed with them. It was commemorated with that year and his full name, Peter Benjamin Parker.

"Where are you, Peter?" she wondered silently. Then, stepping away from the Christmas tree, Aunt May knelt down by the couch with some difficulty and began to pray.

* * *

**Dr. Connor's Laboratory**

If the cold, biting wind could carry an answer back to Aunt May, they would tell her of Peter's arrival at Dr. Connor's laboratory. Whipping around the corner, the stark white building came into view. Looking quite plain, there were no signs outside of the building and so, no indication of what lay inside. What could hopefully be found inside was Dr. Connors and a successful antidote.

Spiderman landed down outside of the laboratory, landing out of sight as he started to change out of his Spiderman costume. Dr. Connors was expecting Peter, not Spiderman. But, as he gripped the bottom of his mask to peel it off, his Spider sense flared up at once. Looking around, there was no explanation for his spider sense going off but he took a second to look around. Moving around the building, he saw Dr. Connor's car out front and then out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a flash of movement as the door creaked opened. His heart began to pound a little faster, and his Spider sense only intensified as he went to push open the door.

Once the door was open, the reason why his Spider sense was going off was revealed in an instant. Spiderman stood there numb for a second, shocked at what lay inside. No doubt, a short time ago, this had been a meticulously organized laboratory, given Dr. Connor's standards as a researcher and a scientist. Now, however, the lab lay in ruins.

Spiderman stepped into the lab carefully, attempting to avoid the broken glass that lay across the floor. Completely avoid the glass would be impossible, since it was literally strewn everywhere, so he could hear broken glass crack underneath his feet as he walked around assessing the damage. The lab had looked as if it had been hit by a wild animal and given Dr. Connor's history, it probably had. Claw marks around the laboratory, gouged along the wall and other surfaces, suggested that a transformation back to the Lizard had taken place.

Spiderman was naturally concerned whenever Curt Connors transformed into the Lizard, but a selfish part of him wondered, "Why now?" Everything had been so close to a resolution. Perhaps he'd been overly optimistic to imagine a storybook ending like in A Wonderful Life. Still, he couldn't have anticipated this. Out of all the possible scenarios he could've envisioned, Dr. Connors transforming into the Lizard hadn't really been considered.

But, it was obvious now that it should've been and growing more clear as he continued to walk around. Smoke wafted up from several pieces of broken lab equipment that had been scattered across the room and broken tables lay shattered as they'd been thrown across the room with enough force to break them in half. Only two tables had survived the Lizard's rampage and even those had suffered.

It seemed all but certain now that the antidote lay destroyed in the wreckage, and by looking over the various items of destruction, it only seems to confirm his suspicions. It could also have disappeared with the Lizard when he left, but he wouldn't hold out hope for that. A section of the wall was broken, creating a makeshift exit and a set of clawed footprints showed the direction that the Lizard had headed in. Taking another cursory look around the wreckage of the laboratory and Spiderman knew that the only way he could hope to discover the location of the antidote lay with the Lizard.

Starting to step out of the crumbling section of the wall when his Spider sense flared wildly, causing Spiderman to spin around in anticipation of whatever was causing it to go off and half-expecting to see the Lizard behind him. Instead, there was a man standing in the doorway, leaning against the doorway as he apparently surveyed the surroundings. A harsh glare from the sun prevented Spiderman from seeing the intruder's face right away, forcing Spiderman to step closer for a better look.

"Well, our mutual friend has left quite a mess of things, hasn't he?" said a voice that Spiderman found chillingly familiar. Yet, he couldn't quite place it and another second, he didn't have to. Wearing a cream yellow suit, white button-up shirt, black tie, blue gloves, his trademark purple mask and a confident smirk, the Rose had returned. A pair of cruel blue eyes watched him as Spiderman literally found himself taking a step backwards, shocked by this latest twist.

"What are you doing here?" Spiderman asked, managing to find his voice after a second.

Stepping over a piece of broken table, the Rose gazed up at him with those cool eyes and a knowing smile.

"Well, I'm actually looking here for Dr. Connors," the Rose responded, "But you being here is an added bonus. I can give you a message from my employer."

"What message?" Spiderman asked, "Who are you working for?" There were a million other questions he would've liked to ask, but these were the first two that came to mind.

"Who I'm working for is not your concern," said the Rose, "But you should pay special attention to the message."

Having said that, the Rose reached inside his jacket pocket for something with his gloved hand disappearing in and for a moment, Spiderman thought it might be a gun. However, his Spider sense didn't go off at all and a moment later, the Rose was extending him a cell phone.

"You want to be cell phone buddies now?" said Spiderman with a healthy amount of skepticism and a chuckle

"Keep this with you at all times." the Rose said, deliberately ignoring the comment, "We will call you with instructions when we're ready."

"Why would I bother taking orders from some guy named after a flower?" responded Spiderman, rolling his eyes, "I don't work for you. Or your boss."

"You do now." the Rose sneered, "You will do whatever we ask of you."

This automatic assumption that Spiderman was going to roll right over and do whatever they wanted was growing frustrating and fast.

"In case you've forgotten," Spiderman said, "I put people like you in jail. Why in the world would I bother working for the bad guys?"

"Because, " the Rose said with a smile, clearly savoring the moment, "the bad guys, as you refer to us, are in control of what happens to your wife."

The words hit him like a suckerpunch, as he literally felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. His heart felt like it was being ripped out of his chest by some invisible hand and his head pounded at this revelation. The implications of such a simple statement like that were amazing. Not only did the Rose appear to know of Spiderman's secret, but it appeared that he had used that knowledge to harm Mary Jane. Even worse, he seemed to be using Mary Jane as some kind of pawn in a blackmail scheme.

Spiderman could try to feign innocence and pretend he had no idea what the Rose was talking about, but he suspected it would be an exercise in futility. Instead, he settled for another reaction entirely. Leaping forward to cover the distance between himself and the Rose in no time at all, gripping him by the lapels of his jacket as he slammed him up against the wall.

"What did you do to Mary Jane?" Spiderman demanded, through gritted teeth.

"Relax, Spiderman." said the Rose, "Mary Jane is perfectly fine."

"Apart from the coma you mean!" Spiderman exclaimed angrily, "Apart from the fact that somebody tried to kill her!"

"The intent was never to kill her." The Rose stated, "She's obviously much more use to us alive."

"I should kill you right now." Spiderman said, leaning closer and trembling with rage, "I want Mary Jane back – now!"

"Of course you want her back," said the Rose with surprising calm, "And you will once you do us a favor."

"What do you want me to do?" Spiderman said, glaring at the Rose as he strongly contemplated throwing the man responsible for everything that had happened to him so far through the wall.

"All in good time, Spiderman" said the Rose with a smirk, "But, first you'll let me go and then I'll explain the rules."

Spiderman's fingers clenched around the Rose's lapel tightly, before he stepped backwards away from him and as he was pushing off backwards, he "accidentally" let the Rose's head smack into the wall with a crack. This gave Spiderman a small amount of satisfaction, since he felt basically helpless at the moment.

The Rose slumped down the wall for a second, grimacing as he rubbed his head and those eyes glared at him before straightening up. The Rose took a few steps to orient himself, straightening out his lapel before he resumed speaking as he shook his head.

"If you ever attempt to make good on your attempt to kill, hurt or maim me in any way, Mary Jane will die." said the Rose, "If you do not follow our instructions to the letter, Mary Jane will die. If you deviate at any point, Mary Jane will die. Are you following the pattern so far, Spiderman?"

As he said the instructions, he ticked off the instructions one by one on his fingers, calmly as if he was chatting about the weather. As he reached the end, he looked up at Spiderman in expectation of an answer. Spiderman remained silent, though.

"We have an agent stationed inside the hospital right now. He can get to Mary Jane any time he wants." said the Rose, walking towards the door, "Remember that."

"What if I do your favor?" Spiderman said, not able to believe he was even asking, "What guarantees do I have that you'll cure Mary Jane?"

The Rose was halfway to the door before he turned around, looking at Spiderman.

"You get absolutely no guarantees, Spiderman." said the Rose with a chuckle, "We're the bad guys, remember? But, then again, you don't get a choice either."

"If anything else happens to Mary Jane," Spiderman said, "You're going to wish you'd never been born."

The Rose only laughed though as he said, "We'll call you when we're ready and Merry Chr…"

But, the Rose didn't get to finish the holiday greetings as Spiderman webbed his mouth shut. Then, Spiderman swung away, without another word. If he stayed even a second longer, he might do something he would regret. Not that the Rose didn't deserve it, but because he didn't want to jeopardize Mary Jane any further.

Looking back over his shoulder as he swung away from the laboratory, he was pleased to see the Rose tearing furiously at the web covering his mouth and noticing that he couldn't seem to get it off. Then, the driver's side door opened as a beautiful, statuesque woman with black hair and blue eyes stepped out of the limousine that had apparently brought the Rose here.

It had been a few years since he'd seen her, but you didn't forget a woman like Delilah and certainly under the circumstances in which they'd met. Her presence here suggested that the man assuming the guise of the Rose was Jacob Conover, but without x-ray vision, there was no way to be sure. Last time he had seen Jacob Conover, Spiderman had sent him to prison and last time he had checked, there had been no parole for him. Delilah had been taken to the hospital by the authorities after a battle with one of the Black Tarantula's operatives, Bloodscream. But, that had been ages ago. Neither of them had been heard from or seen since. To be honest, he'd practically forgotten them but now they were back and with a vengeance it seemed. Neither was a foe to be taken lightly and the fact that they were working for an individual yet to be revealed suggested a larger scheme was in place.

He had come to the laboratory in search of answers, but with every answer he had received so far, there had been only more questions. Everything remained elusive, much like the answers to so many questions and the antidote for Mary Jane. The only thing that he appeared to know for sure is that the storybook ending he sought was nowhere in sight. For once, he was glad Christmas only came but once a year.

**The End**

**(to Part One only!) **

**So, don't worry all my faithful readers, you can look for Part Two: Auld Lang Syne coming soon!**


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